The Pact
by Warrior Goddess
Summary: Eragon, Saphira and Murtagh are travelling together to seek the Varden, when they come across a mysterious young warrior woman who joins their party.Discover how their fates and stories are entwined in this exciting and thoughtful adventure.
1. Chapter 1

**The Pact**

_**Disclaimer:**____This is a fan fiction loosely based on Inheritance Trilogy by Christopher Paolini. Some of characters are the same, but the new characters and developments are my own. For the benefit of my story, some facts and the order of known events have been altered. My story starts just after Murtagh joins the travelling party and in my interpretation, Arya has not yet appeared on the scene._

The hair pricked on the back of Murtagh's neck. He had been in danger enough times to learn that when he suspected something bad was about to happen, he was usually right. The first few times the feeling of unease crept up on him, he dismissed it. After all, fear and caution were inevitable emotions to be experienced in the presence of a dragon, even a dragon belonging to a Rider.

Three days had passed since he had saved Eragon from the Ra'zac. Two days since Brom had died. It was a time of tension, sorrow and wariness. They had to keep moving to avoid detection, but Murtagh knew that despite his heroic deed, he was far from being trusted or accepted.

Saphira would watch him warily and whilst Eragon kept a civil tongue, it was evident that he was unhappy about their travelling arrangement. But it mattered not. They would have to learn to trust him. He needed to follow them. He needed to side with the only two beings capable of overthrowing Galbatorix's rule.

He felt it again and stopped. Eragon continued walking, whilst Saphira soared somewhere overhead. He looked to the sky. Saphira was gliding past, scanning the land, as if she were hunting for prey.

There was something in the quiet and stillness of the air. Hidden eyes were boring into the back of his head. They were being watched.

Slowly, he turned his head and scanned their surroundings. They were in the thick of a forest. Tall trees loomed over them, often blocking the view of the clear blue sky above. Scattered along the ground were scores of shrubs and bushes of various shapes and sizes. For some reason, a particularly large bush caught his eye and he stared at it suspiciously. When nothing appeared to happen or go amiss, he resumed his brisk walk.

Noting that Murtagh had fallen behind, Eragon halted in his stride and folded his arms impatiently.

"We can't afford to stop and rest… not until nightfall… unless you _want_ the soldiers to gain on us?"

Staring at him blankly, Murtagh bit back an angry retort. He knew that he hadn't joined forces with them during the easiest of times. They were painfully aware of his added threat to their safe passage across the Empire. But he _had_ saved Eragon's life and this open hostility began to tug on his last threads of patience. Rider or not; he was owed courtesy, if nothing else. Forcing an accommodating smile, he strolled towards Eragon and stopped at his side. Talking in a whisper, he voiced his concern.

"I agree _Rider_… but I think we have company"

"How? Saphira would have seen the soldiers long before they reached us?"

"That's because she is looking for a group. I think this is _something_… or _someone_"

Eragon's expression hardened as he tried to hone all his senses and thoughts to include consciousness' existing around them.

"Where?"

Tilting his head backwards, Murtagh discreetly motioned to the bush that had stole his attention only moments before.

With a nod from Eragon, his hand began to inch towards the hilt of his sword. A single word was uttered.

"_**Brising**__r_!"

The bush went up in flames and there was a small, but audible yell that followed. Eragon glanced to the skies, searching for Saphira.

We have an unwelcome guest I'm coming 

Both drawing their swords, they cautiously headed towards the burning bush. From the opposite side, Saphira came crashing through the trees and roared. The being hidden behind the bush stood upright and froze in fear, trapped between a fierce dragon, a fire and two men with swords.

"Who are you and why are you following us?" Eragon shouted from a distance.

The being was cloaked in dark green from head to toe. A hood was obscuring any face that was underneath. The concealed face turned, an indication that their words were being acknowledged and understood. The voice that emanated from the dark void caused both Murtagh and Eragon to frown in confusion. Not only was the voice human, but it was female.

"Who I am is of no meaning to you, but for what little it is worth, my name is Lia. Although you may not chose to believe it, I am here to help you"

"Why would you help us?"

"You are a Rider. You are the only hope we have to restore peace to these lands"

"How could you possibly help us?"

"I know things. I know you seek the Varden. I can help you find it"

"We don't need any more company or help on our journey"

"Would the potential saviour of Alagaesia be so foolish as to decline help in his greatest time of need?"

Caught of guard, Eragon hesitated and risked a quick glance at Murtagh. Murtagh gained a certain sense of acceptance from this gesture. Eragon was looking to him for assurance. It wasn't much, but it was a start. However, unsure of what to do, he merely shrugged his shoulders. Eragon reached for Saphira's thoughts.

_What do you think?_

_She smells of fear. I don't think that one who was meant to cause us harm would feel such a thing_

_Should we trust her?_

_That I cannot tell. But if she really does know the way to the Varden, she will save us precious, valuable days_

_Another person I don't know if I can trust!_

_Decide little one. No matter what you chose, I shall support you_

_I think you are right. It may be a risk we should be willing to take_

_Very well. So be it._

_You may want to stop growling at her_

_If you think it will help…_

Saphira's growls receded, but she satisfied herself by glaring menacingly at this mysterious stranger.

"If you are to travel with us and we are to accept your help, you must uncloak yourself!" Eragon demanded. Murtagh stared at her anxiously, still fingering his blade.

When the hood fell back, the face of a young girl was revealed. She could not have been more than eighteen years old. Her hair was long and black as ebony. Her skin was the warm colour of honey and her eyes were a dark shade of brown and strikingly beautiful.

Taken by surprise, they could not find the right words to say. She noted their discomfort and raised a challenging brow.

"You seen surprised?"

"We just… we just weren't expecting a woman"

"Well…now you have one"

"You say you can lead us to the Varden. How?"

"I know where to look…signs…places…rituals. I've gathered much information on my travels. I can find it"

"If you know we seek the Varden, then you know that we are being pursued and that our time here is short. We cannot waste time protecting you. You have to keep up and you have to stay out of trouble"

A cold laugh echoed through the trees as a response to his warning words. When the laughter subsided, she placed her hands on her hips and fixed him with a steely stare.

"Rider, you don't need to waste your time worrying about me. I have seen and done things that have hardened me to the harsh things in this world a long time ago. I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I may prove an even greater use by helping protect you and your dragon in these cursed times"

Saphira's tail whipped across the ground in annoyance. A smile flickered across Eragon's face, whilst Murtagh allowed himself a throaty chuckle. It was impossible for him not to. The concept of a woman being able to protect a man was ridiculous. During his life at and around the palace, the women were rotund and pampered, or weak and willowy. Neither kind showed the ability to defend them selves.

"Her name is Saphira. You would do well to remember it. This is Murtagh"

"Murtagh… do you find something amusing?"

"I find this talk amusing. Eragon, let us move before she starts to slow us down with her womanly ways"

"You doubt me?"

Anger flashed in her eyes and she stepped past the bush and stood facing him. Eragon stared at her curiously. Saphira observed the scene with interest, waiting in anticipation as to what would happen next.

Murtagh eyed her from the top of her head, down to the grime on her weatherworn boots. It was a degrading movement. He wanted to see her cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was to no avail. She satisfied him with no such thing. Instead, she cocked her head to the side. The anger that had clouded her face was replaced by a mischievous smile. He didn't know why, but there was something about this sudden change of expression that caused him to tense.

"You women are fragile…how could you possibly protect others, let alone yourselves?"

"You think I am _weak_?"

"You think you are _strong_?"

"I _know_ I am strong"

"Then humour me…humour _us_…show the Rider and I how _strong_ you are. I'll make it easy for you… here…I am standing before you… throw your best punch… right here at my face… _do it_"

He moved until he was directly in front of her. He placed his hands behind his back and stared at her smugly. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that the blow would sting only a little, if at all. Then she would be put back in her place. However, he found her smile unnerving.

"I am giving you this one chance to walk away"

"Empty threats My Lady"

"Fine…"

A slap was what he had really expected. At the most, a clumsy fist that would merely have bounced off his cheek. What he never expected was her to lash out, with a punch thrown from her shoulder that was so powerful, he was thrown backwards off his feet.

A low rumble was sounded from Saphira's throat. Eragon's lips twisted into a smile. Murtagh didn't need to be educated in dragon lore to know that Saphira was laughing at his misfortune. His rear was sore from his bad landing. His hands felt raw from the scrape against the small stones and pebbles on the ground. Licking his lips, he tasted the bitter tang that was his own blood. She had split his lip. And whilst half of his face had regained its feeling, the other felt burning hot and numb.

Raising his eyes to meet hers, he began to accept that she was no ordinary female. Rising to his feet, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and examined the result of her attack.

"Not bad…for a _woman_"

Without a further word, she let her cloak drop to the floor and he was drawn to her unexpected physique. She was neither skinny to the bone, nor fat, like an overfed lady of leisure. She was lean and well built. Her shoulders were broad and her arms were muscular. She was built like no other woman he had ever seen. She was built like a fighter: a warrior. Her long hair whipped about her face in the breeze. She bunched her fists before her face and inclined her head.

"You are too kind… now… why don't you _try_ and hit _me_?"

It was a challenge. She _almost_ looked like a worth adversary. She had beaten him once, but he would not let it happen again. No. He was going to enjoy humbling her. He had been humiliated enough throughout his life. Being beaten by a woman was not an option he would gracefully accept. He readied himself and then he sprang.

Lunging forward, he swung his fist at her. Effortlessly, she ducked under his arm and attempted to punch him in his side. Twisting at the last second, he avoided her blow. Impulsively, he pulled his sword out of his scabbard. Without hesitation, she followed suit and they stood, poised, ready for an attack. Eragon and Saphira touched minds.

_Maybe we should stop them_

_No. I think this is something that needs to be done_

_All right. But if it looks like there might not be much left of them, maybe we should intervene?_

_We will intrude when the time is right…_

He swung his blade in a deadly arc, but she parried the blow. They toyed with each other for a few minutes. It was a dangerous and deadly display or swordsmanship. Murtagh felt the sweat dripping into his eyes and his hair matt against his forehead. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of Lia's face. Her sleek hair was now hanging lank in clumps, soaked through. Apart from the perspiration, neither of them showed signs of tiring from this battle. Their eyes shone with the lust for battle… but behind this passion, there was something else… admiration and respect. They had both surpassed each other's expectations. But neither was willing to step down.

In a final attempt to gain the upper hand, Lia spun on her heel to jam her sword sidelong into his middle. Murtagh rushed behind her, swung an arm around her shoulders and aimed his blade at her throat. She stopped the blow with her own blade, bare inches from her jugular.

A deafening roar filled the air and they stopped, holding their positions. Lia turned her head to the side and stared up into Murtagh's eyes. A grudging respect passed between that glance… however, they did not lower their weapons.

The ringing in their ears ceased and Eragon stood by Saphira's side and eyed them both, as a teacher would a pupil.

"Enough! If you kill each other, neither of you will be of any use to us or our cause!"

Lia was the first to lower her blade. Murtagh carefully removed his own. They both returned their blades to their sheaths. They avoided eye contact and focused their undivided attention on Eragon.

With a small snort of smoke, Saphira swung her head, casting a scrutinising stare from one of them to the next. Patiently, Eragon waited for her decision.

_They are both strong willed and skilled fighters. Together, they could make an impressive guard…I approve of her…_

"You both still need to earn both mine and Saphira's trust… but you may travel with us… if you work together"

Lia picked her cloak from the ground and threw it back over her shoulders. Brushing the dirt from it, she studied Murtagh's determined expression and nodded her head.

"As you wish Rider…"

Murtagh satisfied Eragon with a small nod.

"Then it is settled…come…we have ground to cover and not enough hours in the day to outrun our foes… we must make haste"

Without a further word, Eragon turned his back on them, grabbed Snowfire's reigns and sprinted away, Brom's old horse trotting at his side. Saphira hurtled into the sky and resumed her place, gliding on the currents above. Murtagh leapt into Tornac's saddle and followed Eragon. Lia, carried only by her own two feet, ran after the both of them. And so their journey as a group began.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The day wore on and on. Seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. And hour after hour passed, every moment exactly the same as the last. But none of it mattered. Like a team of dedicated Kull, they sprinted on,the cool autumn breeze, feeling refreshing against their hard working frames. The thought of their enemies driving away their urge to stop for even the smallest rest, no matter what.

Time was of no importance. No one needed to heed it. The only indication of change during their journey was the sun setting over the trees, a beautiful sight to behold. And the darkness of night, which swept over them like an inviting blanket. But their march did not cease…it seemed as if it never would.

Eragon, who was now striding by Snowfire's side, was starting to feel the strain. The strain had started many hours before, but only now was it beginning to feel close to unbearable. Every muscle and limb from his head to his feet were on fire. He was almost too scared to stop, in fear of all his muscles cramping at once.

Unwillingness to face the possibility of this excruciating pain and his sheer determination kept him mobile. But his eyes were tired. He was so tired. Only his built up momentum gave him his tireless appearance…and even now, he could feel it wane.

As with Murtagh, they had paced their efforts throughout the day. They would ride their mounts and then sprint at their sides, to give both themselves a rest as well as their magnificent beasts. Only Lia kept up her pace without the aid of a steed.

Eragon had considered offering Snowfire to her out of consideration, but then decided that it would have seemed discourteous. She was a complete stranger who's name was all that he knew, but he could see that she had pride, and it would have prevented her from accepting his offer. He would not have wanted to offend her. Especially when he still had no idea what she was capable of.

Her earlier competent display of skill with both her fists and a blade both pleased and yet troubled him. Murtagh, still uneasy from their initial encounter, gave her a wide berth. Their silence and avoidance seemed to keep them content, although still far from comfortable.

The hour was now late. The sky was black over head. All the stars were shining brightly and their path was lit by the moonlight spilling across the forest floor. This cursed forest was all that they had seen since joined by this mysterious female. Eragon was sick of the same scenery passing them by. To think that he had loved hunting in the Spine before his life was turned upside down.

He wanted to see the open air. He wanted to see the mountains. He wanted to be somewhere where he could see all around for miles. He knew that the forest was the best place through which to travel and hide their tracks. But tiredness, nausea and irritation…these were all he could feel. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake and took another step forward.

A strong wind from above beat against his face in a slow rhythm. It was a comforting feeling. He cursed it for bringing him relaxation when he should have been feeling awake and revived!

Before he could take a further step, the huge hulking form that was Saphira, crashed to the ground in front of him. He tried to walk around her, but she shifted in his path. Angrily, he tried to walk around her other side and she blocked his path again.

He wanted to say something. He raised an accusing finger… and then realised he had stopped moving. The ground seemed to welcome him. His legs lost all feeling and gave way at the knees.

Murtagh and Lia darted forwards and grabbed him before he hit the ground. They each took an arm of his and supported him over their shoulders. Murtagh glanced worriedly from Saphira to Eragon before shouting at him.

"Are you hurt?! What happened?!"

"He's not hurt! He's unconscious… the fool…he's pushed himself beyond his limits!"

Lia reached to a water skin tied to her belt with her available hand, and poured the contents over Eragon's face. He stirred and looked at them both through bleary eyes. He knew that Saphira was in front of him…but his bloodshot eyes made it impossible for him to focus on anything. It mattered little. She had already attacked his mind with an onslaught of anger. He barely had the energy to touch minds with her, let alone talk. But somehow he managed. Her strength gave him the ability to share his thoughts.

Somewhere by his right side, he could hear Lia speaking. Her voice thick with a disapproving tone.

"He needs to lie down…gently, for pity's sake!…"

"I was being gentle!…now what?"

"We need to remove any tight clothing"

"His jerkin'?"

"It will help him breath properly… and we should keep him warm"

"He can have my cloak"

"And mine…poor fool…"

Gently, he felt himself being lowered to the floor. The cramps that he had expected never came. The feeling of his exhausted body touching the cool, hard earth was the closest thing to bliss he had felt in a long time. The only factor ruining his final moment of peace was Saphira's voice grating in his ear, like a mother scolding a son.

Murtagh removed his cloak and casually swung it across Eragon's middle. He watched in surprise, as with unexpected feminine care, Lia removed her own cloak and re-arranged the two to form a warm and comfortable blanket around him- tucking the edges about him to seal in the warmth.

The moment of tenderness was gone once she rose back to her feet and stared up at Saphira with a serious and concerned look etched on her face. Without looking at Murtagh, she spoke.

"We can only let him rest…there is nothing more we can do for him…"

Saphira seemed oblivious to their existence. She was baring a small row of teeth and growling at her Rider. Her large head inched closer to his, until the breath from her snout was ruffling his hair every time she exhaled. Her shoulders were heaving up and down and she was breathing heavily. If Lia was concerned for the Rider's safety, she didn't show it.

"…I believe Saphira has taken charge of the situation.."

Murtagh glanced over to Saphira. The sight seemed to amuse him, despite his worry. He grinned.

"I can honestly say that at this moment, I would not want to be in his shoes… the way she is looking at him…"

"Oh I think it's safe to say that he's in trouble"

As if she had overheard their words, Saphira raised her head to meet their eyes, forcing them to look away, before nudging Eragon's head with her snout.

It was not done in an unkind way, but it was aggressive enough to keep him hanging on the edge of consciousness- much to his dislike.

If her words could have been heard, they would have boomed across the forest and sent all the creatures of the night fleeing for their lives. She was enraged and she let her every thought and feeling infuse with his, causing him to writhe in discomfort.

_Foolish boy! Don't you dare fall unconscious when I am trying to berate you for your stupid actions! I can feel you are trying to slip away and I won't allow it! I will keep banging your thick skull until you heed my words! Do you hear me?_

_Yes!_

_How could you be so stupid?! What was the point and purpose of marching to the point of this exhaustion?! Do you want to save Alagaesia? Do you want to reach the Varden? _

_Of course I do!_

_Then what were you trying to accomplish? You could have killed yourself! I have felt your exhaustion flowing through me all day. I have urged you to rest, but you chose to ignore my pleas! We are supposed to look after each other! Yet you expect me to follow your wishes unconditionally and you take no heed of mine!_

_I have followed your counsel many a time!_

_But never when it really matters! Especially when it leads you close to death's door! And your arrogance has consequences… or did you forget that you do not travel alone?_

_They have kept pace…they didn't complain…_

_It matters not! They are as exhausted as you! The only thing that keep them on their feet is their added years and their experience. Murtagh has the look of a weary old man almost ready to join you splayed out on the ground and that poor wretched girl has not once stopped… not even to ride!… you could have killed them as well as yourself! And then all of this would have been in vain!_

_I feel trapped…We have so many enemies…And now we have two strangers with us…I know we need them…But I don't know what to think or feel…I don't know if they can be trusted…I have to accept them, but I fear them… The only person I trust is you…It just makes me want to get this over with…I just want it to end…I want to reach the Varden…I want to part from their company…My brain aches from all this thought!_

_Little one…_

Saphira's anger faded and her voice softened in his mind. As she spoke, he felt the warmth of her love flow through him. He touched her consciousness and returned the feeling. His heart swelled.

_Eragon…this is not just your journey… it is our journey… yours… mine… and theirs. We cannot be so hasty as to place our complete trust in them… but it is too soon to pass judgement as to whether they are good or evil… _

_I know…you are right… I should wait and see what happens…_

_We are going to spend a long time together. Instead of distancing yourself from them, it would be wise to interact with them. You do not need to be friends to respect each other and work together. See the way Murtagh and Lia behave towards one another? There is bitterness and resentment, but there is respect and the determination to co-operate when working to achieve a common goal. You would do well to learn from them._

_I suppose it would be easier than wandering all the time if and when I shall feel a knife in my back?_

_You know I would never let anything happen to you. Such thoughts are pointless_

_I know. And I you…_

_Of course, you do not need me to tell you that we could use all the friends and allies that we can obtain at this point in time?_

_Allies yes…but friends?_

_It's not impossible. _

_We shall wait and see what tomorrow brings…I promise I won't push myself to the point of my death…or theirs…I think I have learned my lesson…_

_I shall let you slip into your slumber_

_Thank you_

_You know I love you little one?_

_I love you too_

_Sleep well_

Eragon wanted to reply, but he slipped into a deep and wonderful sleep before the words could reach her. Sounding a small, content growl, Saphira gently nuzzled his face and rested her head in between her front legs- eyes fixed, watching over him as he slept.

Murtagh, used to their nightly camping arrangement, went off searching the nearby area for small twigs and branches, suitable for making a small fire.

Lia cleared a small area and waiting patiently for his return. It was a few minutes before he returned with a sufficient amount and dropped them at her feet. He heard his stomach rumble.

"Finally… food"

"Where are you provisions?"

"Inside Snowfire's saddlebag"

"Is there much?"

"There's enough…for two…"

"Very well… I shall return…"

"And where exactly are you going?"

"I am going to look for food"

Lia turned to leave, only to stop in her tracks at Murtagh's now familiar soft chuckle. With Eragon asleep and Saphira distracted, she made no attempt to hide her annoyance.

"You must be overjoyed that I am travelling with you…I seem to provide you with nothing but endless amusement… although I believe you didn't seem too amused by the end of our last bout?"

The smile was threatening to leave his face, but he was determined to make it hold. He would not let her get under his skin. A women fighter and swordsman was too much to grasp- but a huntress as well? This was something he had to see with his own two eyes.

Oh, he didn't doubt that she knew how to hunt. She could possibly have proved him wrong in the light of day. But at night? She was trying to impress him. She felt she had something to prove. He was not impressed, nor would he allow himself to be. He would eat their provisions, and wait for her to return empty handed, before having her beg him for a bite.

"I apologise for seeming rude… but I must ask… are you per chance part elf?"

"No"

"Or any other mythical creature with powers superior to our own?"

"No"

"Then how do you expect to hunt at night?"

"I never said I was hunting…"

She turned and left without a further comment. He didn't care enough about her or her feelings to talk further. He casually wandered over to Snowfire, patted his flanks and reached inside the saddlebag.

He tore himself a small chunk of dry bread and cut himself a small slab of cheese. Satisfied that he had left enough for the sleeping Rider, he headed back to the spot where he would set up their camp. The fire could wait a few moments. His stomach could not.

The tough and stale bread and the hard cheese tasted like a small feast after a day of struggling on without a moment of rest. Followed by a large gulp of water, his stomach was as close to content as he would allow.

Starting a fire was the next priority. The twigs and branches lay in a heap. He had just bent down to arrange them, when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"I can do that…"

The hand didn't move from his shoulder. It wasn't a tight grip, but it was firm. There was something demanding in Lia's voice. He raised a confused brow and eyed her other hand, which was holding a selection of roots and berries.

"You have your hands full"

Abruptly, she dropped her food onto the ground.

"Now I don't"

He was growing tired of this endless need to prove herself. Didn't she realise that he didn't care of her abilities. And if Eragon cared, he did little to show it. Typical of a woman. They had such little sense of self worth. But then again, most women had cause to feel such things.

"I was trying to be helpful…eat your food"

His ordering made her stand stiffly, before crouching down on her knees and staring at the kindling. Her eyes wandered to a far away place. She spoke. Her tone was neither angry, nor upset. It was polite…and yet demandingly so, with a hint of desperation.

"I appreciate your help… I shall eat my food when I am ready…But I must request that I light the fire…It is something that I have always done and something that I always will do…I shall never ask anything of you Murtagh…Nothing but this…Let me light the fire…"

Every part of him was screaming to say no, for no other reason than the plain fact that he simply could. But the way in which she requested this one favour left him unable to say it. He felt unable to say anything.

It was such a strange thing to ask, especially without any given reason. Taken aback by her sudden change of attitude, he moved aside and sat himself down with his knees drawn up against his chest, hugging them to himself.

He watched as she delicately lifted each and every twig and branch and piled them together in an array fit for burning. Taking hold of a flint and tinder from a pouch at her side, she started the fire. She sat there, patiently, watching the small fire start to burn. Blowing on it gently, she encouraged the flames to spread.

Sitting opposite him, she picked her food up off the ground and wiped the dirt off with a brush of her fingers. Peeling the outer layer of the roots, she began to chew on the moist and tender inside. Murtagh pulled a disgusted face. She couldn't resist offering him one.

"Help yourself…they're tasty and nutritious…"

"Somehow I doubt that"

"The nutrition?"

"No. The taste!"

"Well in case you didn't realise, we are not dining in a banquet hall and we are in the wild. Roots. Berries. Where there is no game to hunt, they will save your life"

"My life doesn't need saving just yet…"

Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to chew on her food with a content expression.

They sat and watched the fire burn. The flames licked the air and the warmth caressed their exposed faces and arms. Murtagh enjoyed this moment of peace and tranquillity and sneaked a passing glance to Lia, who seemed mesmerised by the flames.

"Why do you have to light the fire?…"

Lia seemed to ignore his question and continue to stare at the flames. He was curious, but not to the point of being angered when she wouldn't answer. Their silence was comfortable – made ever more so by the fact that neither particularly enjoyed the other's company.

Drowsiness that had been long held at bay swept over Murtagh, he felt his eyelids drooping. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Whereas Lia looked as fresh as the moment they had met. There was something about the fire that rejuvenated her. She motioned to the ground.

"Sleep. I will take first watch…"

For the first time, Murtagh didn't think to argue with her or laugh at her offer to do something. The urge to sleep took over all his senses. He murmured his thanks and curled up in a ball. Sleep took him almost instantly.

Saphira, who had been silent and motionless until now, slowly raised her head- she glanced at Murtagh asleep on the floor and then gazed at Lia. Lia stared back and unsure why, she offered the dragon a small nod. In response, Saphira slightly dipped her head and went back to protecting Eragon.

Lia returned her attention to the flames. But something was different. The faintest trace of a smile was on her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

The rolling fields were peppered with small daisies, dandelions and buttercups. The sky was clear and the rays of the sun beat down upon their skin. The birds were singing. The air was fresh with the smell of dew and hay. Spring was here.

Eragon closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the moment. Roran pushed him playfully and he fell onto his side. He laughed and sat himself back upright. They sat, side by side, on the crest of a hill, overlooking the farm and their land.

Roran plucked a dandelion, took a deep breath and blew the long furry seeds from its fluffy white head. Eragon grinned, as they both watched the seeds dance away from them on along the wind.

"What did you wish for?"

"For Sloan to be less of an Urgal's rear!"

Eragon snorted his laughter and Roran smiled cruelly.

"What won't you do to win Katrina?"

"I'd do anything…"

"Even have Sloan as a father!"

"Anything…"

"If that's what love is, I don't want any of it!"

"You say that now cousin…but just you wait…one day you will meet her…and everything will make sense…you will want to exist just for her…"

Roran's gaze shifted from their house towards Carvahall and he sighed. Eragon found the change in his cousin over the past year amusing… and yet…sad. For a young man to be so overwhelmed and distracted. Willing to throw everything away…for a girl. It seemed absurd.

But so did something else. Something was not right. Why were they sat here? How did they get here? He didn't remember waking up in the morning. He didn't remember sleeping the night before. And then realisation hit him like a hammer to the head.

Hot tears pricked his eyes. It wasn't real. This couldn't be real. His cousin was not beside him. That was not his home. He didn't want to see any of it anymore.

Roran turned to him and smiled. It was an easy smile. And then he pointed to the house. The front door opened and there was Garrow, waving them to return.

He knew it wasn't real. But the sight of Garrow alive brought him such joy, that he surged to his feet and prepared himself to run down the hill as fast as his legs would carry him.

Roran grabbed his arm. He stared at him sadly. Eragon wanted to shake off his grasp, but his grip was too tight. He struggled, trying to wring his arm free.

"You can't…"

"But Garrow is calling us!"

"You have to wake up…"

"Just a few moments…I beg you!"

"Wake up Eragon…"

"Please!"

"Wake up!"

Eragon was jerked out of his dream by Saphira's voice ringing inside his head. He awoke with a start. A cold sweat clung to his skin. His face was damp with tears.

_Did you have a bad dream?_

Yes… and no… 

_Are you well rested?_

_I think so…_

_Good. You have slept long enough_

Eragon couldn't help but wish that he had slept just a little while longer. If he had, maybe he would have reached the house…even received a rough hug from his uncle, who was the only father figure he had ever known.

But it was a dream and Garrow was dead. He didn't know what had happened to Roran or Carvahall. He only hoped that his hasty escape had saved them from an ill fate.

Putting his dream aside, he propped himself up on an elbow and stared into Saphira's large, penetrating eyes.

Enough about me…did you sleep well? 

_I kept watch over you, but I am well rested_

_You should have slept!_

I wanted you to feel safe 

_Thank you…_

_But I don't think we need fear them_

_Really?_

_For now…or would any enemy you know of cook you a fine breakfast?_

As if noticing it for the first time, the most wonderful smell in the world filled Eragon's nostrils. Taking in the scent, he rolled over to his side to see Murtagh standing over a fire, stirring a saucepan.

On the floor lay two rabbit hides. The air was strong with the smell of stewing meat and spices. The smell caused his stomach to cramp in hunger. The realisation that he had not eaten a morsel since the previous morning sent a sudden wave of nausea to pass over him.

From the corner of his eye, Murtagh saw the blanketed mound that was Eragon begin to rise. After adding an extra pinch of salt to his stew, he stirred the contents and then scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his lips.

The juices of the tender meat had mixed with the water to produce a wonderful stock- made even more delicious by the salt and combination of a selected few spices. The meat was cooked. The food was ready.

Removing the saucepan from above the flames, he placed it onto the ground and began dishing out helpings into three crudely carved wooden bowls.

Without a glance at Eragon, he spoke with an air of sarcasm.

"Rider, I see you've rejoined the land of the living!"

He heard a small groan in response to his words. He picked up a bowl and strolled over to where Eragon was now sat up, rubbing his arms, trying to keep the morning chill from his bones.

"Here…this should warm you up"

"Thank you…"

Reaching out, Eragon gladly accepted the bowl and cherished the warmth that flowed through his hands at the mere touch. Murtagh passed him a generous chunk of bread, which he eagerly dipped into the stew. When the bread was moist, he jammed into his mouth.

His hunger was so intense that he barely remembered to chew his food. Murtagh sat and watched him with a half smile on his face. Eragon thought back to Saphira's words the night before. He swallowed another mouthful and spoke with genuine feeling.

"This is the best thing I have tasted in a long time…"

"Eat…get your strength back…then we can talk…"

Despite Murtagh's curt answer, Eragon could tell that his praise had been duly noted. He watched as Murtagh returned to his place by the fire, picked up his own bowl and began to eat.

Saphira stretched her wings and stared at the sky.

_You must eat… and so must I_

_Happy hunting_

_Yes…this morning I would like something I can chase!_

_Go play with your food. We shall wait here for you_

_I will return soon_

Saphira was careful to stalk a safe distance away before unfurling her wings and flapping upwards through a gap in the trees and into the air where she belonged.

Eragon finished the last of his food and licked his fingers clean. He sat and enjoyed the full feeling in his stomach for a while, before gazing around the camp lazily.

It didn't take him long to notice the still, sleeping figure of Lia, lying on the opposite side of the fire.

Murtagh ate his food and seemed to be making every effort not to look in her direction. Standing up, relieved that his legs were still functional, Eragon paced towards the fire. He kneeled between the two of his fellow travellers.

"She still sleeps?"

"Yes…"

"She must have been tired from following us…"

There was a gentle thud as Murtagh lightly tossed his bowl on to the ground and glanced up at Eragon, with an unexpected look of guilt.

"No… it's because of me"

"Why? What happened?"

"She offered to take the first watch…I expected her to wake me when it was my turn…she never did…she waited for me to stir before she would allow herself to rest…"

"She is so strange…"

The words seemed cruel, but they were not intended in such a way. She fascinated him. Her appearance. Her abilities. Her actions. Her apparent fierce determination. He could think of no other word to describe her.

Allowing Eragon to be distracted by his thoughts, Murtagh picked up the third bowl and the largest chunk of bread he had torn off; a peace offering. Somewhat nervously, he made his way towards her sleeping form.

Darkness surrounded her. It was safe. It was comfortable. No one could reach her here. This was her sanctuary. Her holy place. Here, she found herself in her dreams and let the blackness swallow her whole.

But every night…the dream took the same turn. All would be well…and then she would feel it. A single finger touching her arm. A hand grabbing her leg. Unable to see them, she would pull herself free and run. But they would find her. Countless hands. All of them grabbing, scratching, pulling and clawing.

She would try to cover her face, but they would not allow it. Pulling her arms back, they would make her see them for what they were. Faces. Hundreds of faces. All contorted with pain. All pleading with her to look at them. And she would look.

She would stare into every single face and she would know them all and she would cry. But only a single tear.

A single, bittersweet tear was all that it took. For the second the tear slipped from her eyelashes, all the hundreds of voices would scream in unison. A terrible scream. The hands would release her and she would crumple to the floor to find herself all alone…except for him.

His heartless, evil laugh could be heard before she could see him and then he would simply be there. Cloaked and hooded, his menacing face hidden from the world. But she could see his eyes. Those beautiful, enchanting eyes, blazing with insanity.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and reached for her dagger. This time would be different. This time she would not miss. He would pay the price for his deeds. She would stop the screams. She would end their suffering. Muscles tensing with determination, she raised her arm and ran towards her enemy…

Murtagh placed her food by the edge of the fire and crouched down beside her. Watching her carefully, he found himself wondering what she was dreaming about. Her peaceful expression of moments before had been replaced by a scowl. Her eyes flickered back and forth behind her closed lids.

She began to toss and turn. She was having some form of nightmare. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder…

Lia was about to land her killing thrust when she was dragged backwards through the darkness and returned to her conscious form. Instinctively, she stabbed out with the dagger she always slept with, snugly resting in the palm of her hand.

Her hand went sweeping through the air, only to be caught at the last second by Murtagh, who wore a frighteningly disturbed look on his face. She breathed rapidly, the adrenaline from her nightmare and the shock of being awoken still coursing through her veins.

Looking at where his hand had caught hers, he had been lucky. If he had caught it any later, it would have already embedded its sharp edge into the side of his neck.

He stared at her angrily and she glared back into those dark eyes. Those dark and mysterious eyes. And she saw something. She didn't quite know what it was, but it caused her brow to furrow. Staring intently into those eyes, she searched for it…although she didn't know what it was. But there was something about those eyes. She knew them. But for the life of her, she didn't know where she had seen them before.

It made her angry…and then she remembered that she had only just met him. And she was still holding her dagger in her hand.

"Are you thinking of using that?"

"…Not today…"

Dropping the dagger to the floor, he released his tight grip on her. She rubbed her wrist, where his fingers had left a series of dotted, red marks.

Murtagh turned to roll his eyes at Eragon in an unbelieving manner. Not for the first time in his life, he thanked the heavens for his astoundingly fast reflexes. He could have been killed instantly, had the blade met its target.

"Next time, I think I shall simply poke at her with a long stick!"

"It would be safer" Eragon couldn't help but smirk a little.

Lia picked up her dagger and jammed it back in a clasp fixed against the side of her boot. She gave Murtagh the closest thing she could muster to an apologetic smile.

"I apologise…"

"You could have killed me!"

"But I didn't…you are alive…why are you complaining?"

Eragon raised a hand to his face to conceal the grin that was starting to spread across his face. The event was unfortunate and an accident, but her attitude was frighteningly accepting and the look on Murtagh's face was almost comical.

"Murtagh…I know full well that you do not sleep without a blade…she is no different to you…no harm was done"

"Rider! If you tried to wake me, blade or no, I would not try to skewer you !?"

"Murtagh…Eragon…I see that I have given you cause for alarm. Let me make it clear… I suffer fitful sleep…it is not safe to wake me by touch…I would have spoken last night, but it was late…we were tired and we had other things on our minds…I apologise…you now know…therefore it will not happen again"

As if this had cleared the matter, she casually sat up, crossed her legs and noticed the bowl standing not two feet from her. Reaching out, she brought the bowl to her lap and broke the bread into small pieces. Looking up, she noticed Murtagh frowning at the food and turning slightly pink.

"You went hunting?"

"We needed food"

"I could have helped you, had you waited"

"You needed rest"

"I do not require much in the way of rest"

"You should have woken me…I would not have tried to kill you…but I would have taken the next watch"

Giving him a weary look, she shook her head and scraped a piece of bread along the edge of the bowl and delicately placed it in her mouth.

"I did not ask you to"

"You needn't have"

"You needed the sleep more than I. I do not like sleep. I find other ways to regain my strength and relax my mind. When you suffer nightmares such as I…let us say that sleep is not as welcoming as it once was…"

"I know a thing or two about nightmares…"

"Maybe you do…but maybe you do not"

"Do not presume to know me my Lady, for you do not…"

"And you do not know me…I owe you nothing…"

He turned his face away, biting on the inside of his cheek. Against his will and better judgement, he had tried to be accommodating. The female was impossible. He regretted that he had even tried.

"But this food…it tastes wonderful…and you have my gratitude"

Glancing at her face, he checked for signs betraying the sincerity of her words. He found none. She savoured every mouthful of food and ate like a person starved for days. He imagined that she had survived off the produce of plants and the wild. It must have been a long while since she had last tasted meat and it showed.

From above their heads, they could hear Saphira approaching to land. Watching her rapid descent, they admired the way she plummeted down, before pulling her wings up at the last minute to stop herself landing with a crash.

When her claws scraped across the forest floor, they were stained red with blood. Clamped in between her jaws was what little remained of the leg of a deer.

Lia seemed unperturbed by the sight. Murtagh averted his eyes, glad that he had already eaten and Eragon smiled at her lovingly.

_Did your food provide much sport?_

_No… this one was young and inexperienced…it never stood a chance_

_Is your hunger sated?_

_I am content…but I shall have to hunt later_

_You will have plenty of time to do so_

_How do you feel after your meal?_

_Revived…and full of energy_

_Maybe you should put your energy to some use_

_I suppose we could continue our journey now…_

_Or you could spar with Murtagh…_

_Well… it has been a while… the last time I sparred was with…_

Saphira cut his sentence short, wanting to avoid bringing up any further painful memories at this point in their journey.

…_a long time ago. You need practice. All this marching is well and good, but you will never keep up your skills without practice! Challenge him! You may enjoy it?_

_Maybe I shall…_

Feeling pleased with herself, Saphira detached herself from his consciousness and lowered her body to the ground, arranging herself comfortably.

Determined to at least try to do the right thing, Eragon walked to Snowfire's saddlebag and reached for Za'roc. Uttering the words that Brom had taught him, he sealed the edges. Satisfied that the spell was performed correctly, he walked over to Murtagh, standing above him.

"It has been a long time since I have had trained. Spar with me."

"I would not want to mark you pretty face Rider"

Murtagh grinned, but his eyes flickered to Za'roc and his smile soon faded. Eragon didn't take his bait. Instead, he retaliated in the most effective way that he could.

"Of course if you don't think you could match me, I could always compete against our lady traveller…"

Lia had just finished swallowing the last morsel of her meal, when she heard Eragon's words. They almost made her choke from the sudden fit of laughter that overcame her.

His words had the desired affect. Murtagh sprang to his feet and pulled out his sword. He gritted his teeth. His eyes showed no mercy. But he smiled wickedly and accepted the challenge.

"Do not waste your efforts…"

Turning his head to face her, he sneered and looked down at her condescendingly.

"…Watch and learn my Lady…"

Lia clapped her hands delightedly and fluttered her eyelids in a mockingly feminine way. She spoke in a shrill voice, meant to comply with his dismal idea of what a woman should sound like.

"Teach me gentleman! I beg you!"

Giving her a dismissive wave, he turned his focus back to his opponent. Eragon beckoned with his finger.

"Pass me your sword"

"Why?"

"So we don't cut each other to ribbons"

"Don't damage it, or there will be hell to pay!"

"Oh really? What will you do? Hire your lady friend to beat me?"

Murtagh shook his head and narrowed his eyes, but he laughed as Eragon reached out an open hand, knowing that he would have his way.

Having finished her food, Lia contented herself to sit and watch the two young men spar. She was curious to see exactly what level of skill the Rider had to offer. Murtagh was good. Very good. Eragon was younger, but his sword looked like a sword of great history.

She found herself staring at the hilt, wishing that she could study the patterns and gems. But there was something else that caught her interest, their behaviour.

Although they probably did not realise it…the banter…the insults…the fighting. It was the common start of a male bonding ritual. Their insults no longer hit a nerve, but caused them to grin and prove each other wrong.

Passing Eragon his sword, he watched with interest, as a few words of power were mumbled and his sword was passed back to him.

Weighing it in his hands, it felt the same. But when he tried to slide the blade across his palm, he felt an invisible slippery barrier preventing any contact. He couldn't help but admire the effect.

"I'm ready…are you?"

Taking a defensive stance, Eragon awaited Murtagh's first blow. Murtagh coiled his fingers around the hilt of his sword, and as always, enjoyed the comfortable feel of his familiar weapon of destruction.

This blade had saved him more times than he could count and now he was going to test it against the strength of a Rider. His hand itched to swing his blade into action. He swung. It began.

Watching their battle was like watching a perfectly rehearsed play. They knew all their moves. Every thrust was parried. Every swing was missed. Their blades clashed often and the musical sound of steel upon steel played over and over again.

Lia, impressed by their equal display of talent, allowed to sounds of the forest to carry her away. The sounds of the blades slowly began to fade. Even the sounds of the birds and the wind blowing through the trees began to dim. It all melted into nothingness, until she was staring at a silent world. Where things and people moved, but she could think and be at one with herself.

She felt something strange. It was like a warm breath on the back of her neck. Only it wasn't…it was a soft caress…of her mind.

Instinctively, she focused all her concentration on the ground before her. In her mind, she imagined the tip of a colossal mountain protrude from the earth and then gain in height, until it almost touched the sky.

The mountain grew and grew in height and width, until nothing could possibly reach her from above or beyond…and then she heard a voice…a voice as clear as a bell inside her head. It was soft and kind and filled with innocent curiosity…

_You intrigue me female…can you hear my words?_

The mountain halted, and ever so slowly, began to descend back into the earth. But not so quickly as to leave her mind defenceless.

Lia dared to look around her to search for the source of the voice. There was no one. Murtagh and Eragon were still busy sparring for what seemed like an age. Only Saphira seemed to be starting at her with her large, strikingly blue eyes.

Trying with all her might, she could not bring herself to tear her eyes away from the gaze…and then she was aware that the voice belonged to the dragon.

Saphira's tail began to flicker from side to side. She seemed pleased and allowed a small, praising growl followed by a wispy plume of smoke.

_You CAN hear me?…That means you must have received training?…or were you born this way?…_

Feeling Saphira's consciousness mingle with her own was disconcerting, but not uncomfortable. It was the most bizarre thing she had ever experienced.

She had never tried to converse with anyone inside her head before. She didn't know how. The only thing she could think to do was to project her thoughts in the form of words …and loudly…

_I CAN HEAR YOU!!!_

Saphira growled quietly, laughing at the female. Lia heard the laughter inside her head and it caused her to chuckle aloud. She was talking to a dragon! Inside her head! Was she even supposed to have this ability?

She decided that it was safe to lower her guard. The mountain in her mind rapidly fell back into the earth- the ground sealing up behind it.

_You do not need to shout!…I can hear you if you just think it…_

_Alright…should I be able to do this?_

_Some can. Some can't. It is a talent that one learns or gains at birth. How do you come to possess it?_

_I have trained_

_With whom?_

_I do not wish to talk of it…_

_You are cautious. That is wise. But eventually, we shall all have to trust each other. During these times, secrets never stay secret for long…_

_And what of you and your Rider? Do you not hold secrets?_

_Many…_

_Then let us come to an arrangement. We shall not pry into each other's pasts until it is absolutely necessary_

If a thoughtful look could pass across a dragon's face, it would have done so just then. Saphira turned her gaze to stare at Eragon momentarily, before fixing her eyes on Lia and inclining her head.

_Agreed…_

_I am glad…I must request a favour of you…it is a lot to ask…but can you not speak of this to your Rider…_

_I need not…he will know…he feels my distraction even now as he fights…_

Worriedly, Lia forced her mind to sever the connection with Saphira's and looked towards the combatants. And sure enough, Eragon seemed to fight as if something had changed in him.

Seizing this opportunity, Murtagh struck him hard across the back and Eragon fell to the floor. Saphira, feeling his pain, snarled at the unfair victor. Murtagh pointed down at him with his sword, and boasted triumphantly.

"The Rider falls!"

Eragon didn't seem to hear him. He pushed himself back up to his feet and turned his head to stare at Saphira in disbelief. He had felt her presence leave his side and then…in the midst of the fight…he had heard a few words…but they were not directed to him. Worry, tinged with jealousy caused him to reach out for her apprehensively.

_What just happened?_

_I will tell you later…for now…you cannot look weak…you just lost a fight because you were distracted by me…had this been a real battle, you could have died…fight him again…prove to him what you and I both already know - that you are a warrior!_

Her encouraging words filled him with pride. Holding Za'roc at the ready, he resumed his fighting stance. A fresh determination glowing behind his fiery eyes.

"I had to let you have at least one win…it wouldn't have been fair to hurt your feelings"

"Ah! Is the Rider feeling tired?…I couldn't possibly take advantage of you…but perhaps you are ready for a round with our resident woman?"

Eragon saw red. He would not allow his challenge to be refused. Murtagh walked over to Lia and offered her his sword. She stared at it blankly before meeting his eyes with an unimpressed look.

"Here…have your way with him…try using this instead of that pig sticker"

"Pig sticker or no…if I am going to fight…I prefer to use my own tools"

"It makes little difference to me…go fight him"

"I think you have both had enough practice for one day"

"Is my Lady afraid to lose?"

"I do not lose…or would you care for a re-match?"

At the prospect of a second chance to gain the upper hand, Murtagh could not hide his eagerness. Slapping the flat side of the blade against the palm of his hand, he sighed out loud and whistled softly.

"My Lady…it would be an honour…"

"Wonderful…I accept…but I would like to set some rules"

"I am listening…"

"We still have much ground to cover and as pleasant as all this banter is, we do not have all morning. I therefore request that I challenge the both of you…together…"

Raising his brows in surprise, he turned to Eragon and winked at him.

"The lady wants us both at once…how much of a man are you feeling this morning Rider?"

Eragon blushed, but tried to ignore the deliberate innuendo and forced himself to maintain a neutral expression. He shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"If those are the rules then those are the rules…"

"And I have one more request…"

"That being?"

"I use my other sword…"

"Other sword…?"

"Yes…I have two short swords"

"You are ambidextrous?"

"I have been for quite some years…yes"

"And you want to fight us both…at once?"

"It would be my pleasure"

"Eragon…say your words…seal her swords and let the games begin…"

Passing her short swords to Eragon, she moved away from them and began a series of exercises. Whilst Eragon dealt with her blades, Murtagh watched her with admiration concealed with great difficulty.

Starting with a stretch of her arms above her head, she proceeded to lean backwards until her hands were flat against the floor. Her body shaped in an arch. He couldn't help but notice all the contours of her body.

After holding the position for a minute, she effortlessly eased herself upright. Stretching an arm in turn over her head, she leaned over to each side, again, holding the positions for a minute. She finally rolled her shoulders and shook out her hands.

When she had finished, she ignored the look on Murtagh's face and took hold of her swords. She did not test them for her own safety. She put her trust in her colleagues.

Walking into a clear space, she stood in the centre with her arms holding her swords pointing downwards. From either side of her, Murtagh and Eragon paced around, slowly, warily, with their swords raised and ready.

Lia looked from one to the other, her stance was relaxed. She radiated confidence. She offered them both a coy smile and spoke in a dangerously inviting voice.

"Please… don't hold back on my account…"

And without warning, spun around and attacked the both of them at once. Leaping backwards, they dodged her attack and simultaneously stabbed forwards to mark her.

Anticipating their moves, she danced out of their path and left them ridiculously close to stabbing each other in error. Realising that this was a much more dangerous game than they had expected, the young men began to judge their attacks with greater care- putting more focus on the avoidance of her spiralling onslaught of attacks.

This challenge lasted for another ten minutes, by the end of which, all three were soaked to the bone with sweat – their stench thick in the air. The fight only came to an end when all three attacked at the same time and it was impossible to declare a winner.

Panting heavily, they each stared at where their blades rested. Lia, in the centre, had one sword swung over her head, the edge resting on Eragon's neck. Her second sword was in line with Murtagh's heart. Both Eragon and Murtagh had found a fatal spot on her exposed ribs.

They caught their breath and then, the most unexpected thing happened. They laughed. It was a magical sound during this tense time.

Their laughter filled the air and Saphira let their enthusiasm wash her concerns away. They had many troubles ahead. At least, for the moment, these two newcomers were not one of them.

"Both of you…you are incredible!" Eragon exclaimed through short, rapid breaths.

Lia bowed her head in recognition of the praise.

"Both of you were worthy opponents…whoever trained you Rider…and you Murtagh…trained you well"

At the brief reference to Brom, Eragon felt a surge of fresh, undiluted pain. Brom would have been proud of him today. He felt Saphira share his pain and was thankful that he was not alone in missing his old mentor.

Aware of Eragon's recent loss and difficulty dealing with the death of his friend, Murtagh hastily changed the subject. He eyed her two swords and noticed how oddly natural they seemed, clasped in her hands, hanging by her side.

"Aye, that is true…but what of you?…your skill is unusual…and most sought after…who trained you?"

"Anyone…everyone…I watched…I learned"

"Do you have any names for these people?"

"None that would mean anything to you…or do them justice…"

She turned on her heel and left them standing there. Murtagh watched her leave and shook his head. Eragon was right. She was strange. She could be almost friendly for a fraction of a second… and then it would pass. The distance and coolness would return. And there she went again, walking away from whatever truth that they were close to unravelling. He called after her.

"Don't go far…we shall leave soon enough…"

"I shan't…I am simply collecting some things to help us on our way…"

He suspected what it was the she was about to collect, but hoped that he was wrong. Carrying nothing but her small dagger, she disappeared into some nearby undergrowth, leaving Eragon and Murtagh to them selves.

Satisfied that she was out of view, Eragon fell to his knees. Murtagh sat himself opposite and rubbed at his sword arm. Eragon spoke in a raspy voice, his throat dry from the sudden dehydration. Despite the pain, he found himself feeling alive.

"She is a wonder, is she not?"

"She goes against all nature"

"I have never fought with anyone like that in my life?!"

"It probably won't be the last time"

"You can't do it can you?"

"Do what?"

"Speak one good word about her?"

"What would you have me say Rider? I have just met her?"

"Murtagh?…oh…I didn't realise that you liked her"

"Like her?…what is there to like?"

"Your secret is safe with me"

"You are seeing things that aren't there…I must have hit you too hard in our private brawl"

Eragon tapped the side of his nose, pretending to knowingly conceal a much-desired secret. Murtagh wrinkled his nose in disgust and averted his eyes. It was bad enough he was forced to recognise her worth as a fellow travelling companion, without the aid of tasteless jokes.

From behind Saphira, Lia emerged with a handful of purple roots and a wide grin spreading from ear to ear. The smile could not have meant anything good. And as usual, he was proven to be correct.

Lia dropped to one knee and offered a root to the both of them. Eragon stared at the contents of her hands with polite confusion. Murtagh waved his hands in front of his face. His outright refusal made Eragon realise that this was a serious offer.

"I already told you! Not until I am on my deathbed! Take them away!"

"You are being unreasonable…eat them…both of you"

"I'm sorry…but what exactly are they?"

"Roots of a plant…I do not know its name…I just know that it provides a boost of energy which is useful at times like these"

"It could be useful…I suppose?"

"Eat it. The affects are almost instant. I promise you, you will feel like a new man"

"If the Rider wants to chew on plants, that is his business!"

"Murtagh…maybe we should at least try it…"

He wanted to refuse. But this time, the request was not from Lia, but from Eragon - the one person whose trust and respect actually mattered.

Focusing on what he needed to do, he met Eragon's eyes and snapped out a hand, grabbing a root and shoved the end into his mouth. Chewing on it rapidly, he ignored the feeling of Lia's eyes watching him with practised patience.

Upon the first chew, his teeth punctured the root and he felt the cool liquid explode on the inside of his mouth. The taste was bitter, but not vile. The coolness of the liquid was quite refreshing.

After he chewed for a few moments longer and swallowed his first mouthful, there was definitely some change occurring in his body. He didn't know how or why, but tiredness and pain began to seep from his limbs.

Blood seemed to course through his veins at a faster rate and a burst of energy that seemed to appear from no where caused him to leap to his feet.

He removed the stump of the root away from his mouth and stared at it in wonder.

"I feel…almost invincible!"

With a satisfied smirk, Lia passed Eragon his root and watched as he too experienced this physical and emotional transformation. Having eaten her fill only minutes before, she was already buzzing from this rejuvenating feeling.

When all three were on their feet, Eragon sprinted to Saphira's side and jabbered on at her through his mind about the affects of the root. Saphira listened, whilst eyeing him amusedly.

_I feel like I have the strength of two men!…no!…make that ten men!…better still!…an army of Urgals!…I feel…_

_What you feel is the affect of the plants…which is the desired outcome…_

_I feel I can run for miles! Take on any enemy!_

_This energy is a gift… but you cannot let these "feelings" cloud your judgement…you are merely more awake and alert…you can still get hurt and you will if you do anything foolish… I suggest that you sit down for a while…_

_But!…_

_Sit!…all of you…you still need to share your plans with the girl…she does not know that your travels do not take you straight to the Varden_

_We can tell her on the way!_

_Little one!_

_What?_

_Do not make me chase after you and bite on your backside until you sit yourself down! Do this willingly, or out of love, you will leave me no choice!_

Trying his hardest to see the sense in her words, he stopped to take a few deep breaths. Breathing as slowly as possible, he brought his heart rate down and managed to dull his urge to run until he would reach his destination, or merely collapse.

"Murtagh…Lia…we need to examine the map and plan our journey ahead"

Murtagh went to Tornac's saddlebag, removed the map and ran over to where Eragon stood.

Lia approached them, removed the map from his hand and placed it on the floor. The three of them seated themselves. Murtagh held down one side of the map, whilst Lia weighed down the other. In between them, Eragon traced a finger along the map and tapped their destination.

"We should head towards the Woadark Lake…we will be safe near the mountains and we will have plenty of water to refill our skins and feed the horses and Saphira…from there, we can march to Gil'ead"

Lia gave him a quizzical glance, before voicing her concern in a curious tone.

"Why would you head to Gil'ead? The Varden are far across the desert. You will be wasting time"

Murtagh tried to stifle a laugh, but failed and let it sound for all to hear. Lia frowned, expecting that at any moment, a callous comment would be directed at her. But instead, he shook his head at Eragon and gave her a lazy smile.

"Like all trouble…it starts with a girl"

Despite the obvious reference to her joining of their company, she found the meaning behind the statement a cause for alarm…and entertainment.

"Rider…you postpone your quest…for a girl?"

Before Eragon could defend himself, Murtagh interrupted him, thoroughly enjoying the moment.

"Oh…this isn't just any girl!…This is his dream girl!…would you care to tell her about your dreams?"

Fighting to compose his rising anger, Eragon dug his fingernails into the palm of his hands.

"She is not a dream girl… she is real…she is imprisoned…I first saw her in my dreams and then I scryed her and I saw her…if she was not real, then I would not have been able to scry her. She is in danger and if we can, we must try to help her"

"What our Rider is saying, is that we have to stop at every town we pass and search the prisons for this girl"

"Who would have thought…she must be very beautiful to capture your devotion in this way…"

For the first time, both Murtagh and herself exchanged mischievous glances. They focused their joint efforts on Eragon, who was now disturbingly aware of the downside of such an alliance.

Lowering his head, he gazed at the map and thought about the young woman he had seen. She had been beautiful. But she had been in trouble and she had seen him.

If she hadn't looked directly at him, maybe he would have felt differently. But when their eyes had met, he had felt bound to her. Obliged to help her.

He had promised himself that against all odds, he would do all in his power to find her. His decision was final.

"We head for the Lake and then to Gil'ead…it will give us a chance to stock up on provisions and gather any news from the Empire…it will bring us dangerously close to our foes…but from there, we can make our way across the desert…I do not ask you to follow me…but this is where I go"

"Then that is where we shall follow" Murtagh added, simply.

"As you wish Rider…the fate of all people rest of your shoulders…we are at your bidding"

Eragon stared deep into each of their eyes and saw the loyalty that lay there. He saw that despite their mocking attitudes, they were willing to follow him wherever he went, to help him fulfil his cause…for now.

Picking up the map, he carefully rolled it up and handed it back to Murtagh, to be returned to Tornac's saddlebag.

"Let us leave"

They each picked up and packed their belongings and re-saddled their horses, in preparation for the day's journey ahead.

Saphira clambered to her feet and eagerly stared up at the sky. She was about to take flight when Eragon spoke aloud.

"Wait….Lia?"

"Rider?"

"Today I shall ride Saphira…take Snowfire…if he will have you, he will bear you well"

Lia paused for a moment and then slowly paced towards Snowfire. The horse eyed her suspiciously and neighed loudly as she approached him. Eragon watched her, wondering if she was cursing him on the inside or secretly thanking him. Either way, he would never know.

She reached out the palm of her hand and muttered a series of incomprehensible words. Murtagh, who had just mounted Tornac, leaned over in his saddle, to try and hear the words that she had uttered.

Whatever she said, whether it was the words or the sound of her voice…it seemed to work its charm. Snowfire began to relax and gradually, took a step towards her and sniffed her hand. When her hand was close enough, she gently stroked his head, patting his nose softly. He seemed at ease.

Nimbly, she leapt onto his back and took hold of his reigns. Eragon merely nodded his approval and headed towards Saphira, who had already lowered herself for him to mount her.

He had taken only a few paces, when he remembered to do something that he should have remembered to do much earlier. It was a simple, quick and easy task to perform.

Reaching out with the tendrils of his mind, he assumed to invade Lia's consciousness. It would have been a simple assessment of her emotions, her nature and a clear indication of her intentions.

He reached for her and she blocked him out instantly. Whether she knew it was him or not, she had sensed an invasion and she had reacted with great speed and efficiency. It seemed that despite the mutual dislike between Murtagh and herself, they had yet another thing in common.

As much as it would have been helpful to know her thoughts, he did not try it again. It was an unpleasant task and one that he did not take to performing lightly. He mounted Saphira, but before they made for the skies, he shouted out.

"Today we travel long and hard…but I do not wish to repeat yesterdays mistake…we shall rest and we shall eat…we shall contact you when we find a sufficient place"

Taking hold of one of Saphira's long spines and clamping his legs to her sides, he braced himself for her take off. With a forceful flap of her wings, they rose from the floor and he let the joy of flight overwhelm him.

From the ground, Lia and Murtagh watched the Rider and his dragon take to the sky.

"After you my Lady…"

Without responding, she flicked her reigns and galloped away through the forest. Murtagh and Tornac followed behind. Another day. Another journey. Another race.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

Seeing through Saphira's eyes, they both turned their head to assess the progress that they had made since the morning. It never failed to startle Eragon seeing himself sat in the saddle, staring blankly back at himself.

He feared that he would simply slide off and plummet to his death. But he hid these feelings from Saphira. She trusted him with her life. He would trust her with his.

Far behind them, he could see the evil place that was Dras Leona, existing only as a small blur. They had travelled for four days and already covered an impressive amount of ground.

After the past two days of travel through the forest, they had finally emerged onto open land, and despite the risk of being seen, his heart was glad.

Not only had he missed the wide and open scenery; he had longed to feel the wind in his face and spend some alone time with Saphira; his best friend, his partner and his dragon.

He felt her joy as she soared ever higher through the clouds and then looped upside down, causing him to laugh heartily and cling to her for dear life.

Nothing in the world compared to how he or Saphira felt when they were up in the air. It was the ultimate form of freedom. Seeing features on the land below as small specks…everything seemed so insignificant.

It was as if nothing mattered, except the thrill of being propelled through the air by the powerful beat of Saphira's majestic wings. When they were up here together, they truly felt as one.

Eragon looked down on the grassy plains below and saw the small, moving figures that were Murtagh, Lia and the horses. He had observed them throughout his flight and noted their steady advance.

It had been four hours since they had left their camp. They had rode the horses for the first two hours and now they had been running for what was approaching their second hour.

They never broke pace. They never stopped. He admired their stamina. He wasn't sure if even he could have kept up with their pace, had he not been astride Saphira.

He was shamefully aware of how enjoyable his time flying had been spent in comparison, but even still, he was overjoyed to be up in the sky and free from the restraints of the ground.

Concealed amongst the dense clouds and far from inquisitive ears, he was free to converse with Saphira aloud. It was something he would not have dared to try in the company of others.

But here he was safe. There was no body watching or listening. Just the young man, and his dragon.

Saphira felt the question buzzing around inside his head, long before he dared to ask it out loud, but she didn't press him. It was something he had to ask on his own terms and she would not talk about the subject until he raised the issue with her.

The one thought had crossed his mind over and over again. It was not that he was unable to ask- it was the awkwardness. The subject was a sensitive issue. He needed to look deep inside himself to find the courage to ask her.

When he finally found it, his voice was quiet. His words whisked away by the roar of the wind. Luckily she could still feel his words, which conveniently allowed him to have to comfort of speaking his concerns with his true voice.

He released his hold on her spine and gently ran his hands over her hard and shiny scales. They were smooth as polished marble.

"When I heard you talking to someone…was it her…"

Lia… 

Saphira corrected him sternly. She did not enjoy being referred to as "dragon" and she had gained a strange sense of respect for the girl, which had caused her to leap to her defence.

And yes it was 

Surprised by her own actions, she softened her tone and reached out to all of his emotions. There were so many. Sorrow, with a hint of envy. These feelings were accompanied by memories.

All were memories of better times, where they were not so alone in this strange new life.

The only other individual whom had been able to converse with her had been Brom. Even then, despite Eragon's admiration and love for the man, it had still taken him time to adjust and respect that he was not the only one with this gift.

This sudden invasion of and threat to the one sacred relationship that he held dear, was like a knife twisting in his gut. He had been reluctant to share Saphira with his old teacher, let alone some stranger.

"So you are on a first name basis? … how very touching…"

As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted them. He heard the bitterness in his voice and he was ashamed. Who was he to question her decisions as to with whom she wished to converse? It was not his right. He could feel her offence at his words and he let her displeasure entice further feelings of guilt.

Allowing him some leeway, due to his state of mind, she did not respond in the manner with which he deserved. However, she spoke coolly; in a tone laced with indignation.

You asked me a question …I have merely answered you and shown her what basic respect she deserves…her name is Lia and we have exchanged a few words…

"How did you manage to get past her defences? I tried to probe her mind before we took flight and I hit a mountain!"

He could feel Saphira's admiration for Lia's technique. Whilst Murtagh's mind blocking tool was a simple wall, her own method was creative and intimidating to an attacker. It was impressive and showed a degree of power and imagination that he was not even sure she was aware of possessing.

I only just managed to slip in…she was not expecting an intrusion. I caught her off guard. Since then, I imagine she has been alert and prepared.

"What did she say to you?"

She did not say much. She asked me to keep her abilities from you, which I assured her would be almost impossible

"Did she tell you about who she is and why she is here?"

No. We had decided to not pry into each other's pasts…not until the time comes

"You saw into her mind. That much is an experience valuable enough! How did she seem? What are her intentions? What is her state of mind?…did you feel anything?"

Deep in thought, Saphira wandered back to the moment and considered Lia's behaviour and her reactions at the time.

_She was in awe…from both her ability and of me. She had never spoken to someone with her mind before. She was both startled and amazed. She was filled with joy and wonder. Not emotions that she frequently displays. But she seemed to want to keep it a secret. When she realised that you would find out, she recoiled and shut me out._

Eragon glanced at the ground many miles below and picked out the faint, yet distinctive figure of Lia- only made distinguishable by her flowing dark hair, which billowed behind her in the wind.

"She was not aware of her talent?"

No 

"I do not understand"

Neither does she. She had been taught to block out her thoughts, for whatever reason. But that is all. She is amazed by the ability…but it also frightens her. Do not let her appearance or her attitude fool you Eragon… after all, she is only human…

"First Murtagh…now Lia…what does it mean?"

I cannot answer you, for I do not know…

"Is it coincidence that two such travellers should join our party?…the chance of such an accidental meeting seems nigh impossible!"

What would you have me say little one? Fate, it seems, works in mysterious ways

"If it was fate that brought them to us, then maybe they play a larger role in our mission – but enough of this talk! It is beyond our comprehension. Fate. Destiny. These things are beyond our control. Maybe it is better for us just to accept it and embrace it?"

You are learning…I am proud of you…

He patted her side affectionately and pondered upon his words. Had he meant what he had said? Yes. He had. There was a time for worry and a time for doubt. But this was not it. Now he would abandon his fears and come to terms with the circumstances in which he found himself.

Finding the perfect balance between acceptance and caution, he would now cast away his erstwhile manner and focus on what needed to be done.

Of course, I feel I must point out the benefit of this discovered talent…

"Please do…"

We have ways of communication to the ground without having to fly all the way down. It will also prove useful in times where discretion is needed.

"Yes…you are right. It will aid our communication…"

Saphira noted the slight trace of disgruntlement in the back of his mind, but was pleased with the effort that he was making to shield it from her.

You should know that I believe she can only communicate with me if I touch her mind first. She has not been trained to probe minds like you or I. It shall only be on our terms

His attempt to conceal his relief at her words was futile. Upon realising that she had sensed his alleviation, he felt a pang of self-reproach. Much to his relief, instead of sensing her discontent, he felt her amusement at his reaction.

It is all right to feel the way you do. It is only natural. You have taken a big step today into the world of mature thinking. We both have. It will take us time to get used to…and we will occasionally slip up and let our personal feelings get the better of us

He grinned at her words and nodded, agreeing with everything that she had said. Despite her young age, she had a thousand years of memories and knowledge passed down to her.

She was wise before her time and he valued any advice that she would offer him, regardless as to whether he followed it or not.

Staring through the gaps in the clouds, he saw the lake, nestled in a gap in between the mountains. Woadark Lake. The Toark River passed through it to reach Teirm through the mountains, and Leona Lake, by Dras Leona from whence they came.

Judging the distance between where they were and their destination, they were closing in fast. Saphira and he could be there in a matter of minutes if they made haste. The only question was whether their comrades on the ground could postpone resting until then.

Going by the time that they had spent running, their seeming inability to tire and the speed of the horses, he believed that they could reach the safety of the mountainside within the hour.

He relayed his thoughts to Saphira, who recognised and could only trust his superior knowledge of matters relating to two-legged travel across the ground.

Shall I ask them to meet us at the lake?

Taking a deep breath, he braced himself to witness her first contact with another person since the days of Brom. Forcing himself to nod, he confirmed not only that he consented to it, but that he was ready to move on from his emotional turmoil. Saphira sent him one last rush of admiration and adoration, before staring down at Lia and reaching out for her…

Murtagh felt the large blister burst on the palm of his hand. The blister had started to form the previous day; caused by his tight grip on Tornac's reigns as he ran by the horse's side.

Throughout the day, the pain had throbbed and caused him more discomfort than his aching feet. The reign had now sliced into his blister and the sweat from his hot palms was causing it to sting and burn. He could feel warm blood seeping through his fingers.

All he wanted to do was to stop, only for a moment. Just to tear some cloth from his cloak and wrap it around his hand, but he would not stop, he couldn't.

Whilst Lia was steaming alongside him, he could not bring himself to show any sign of weakness. He gnashed his teeth together and focused on their destination and tried to ignore the pain.

The journey may have been more bearable had they spoken, but neither had said a word since the morning camp. The effect of the purple root had provided them with a surge of energy that had propelled them thus far. But he was feeling the effects begin to dwindle and he was wearier than he would have cared to admit.

He was amazed at how their bodies were performing. Albeit with the aid of the root, he could not help but admire how both their forms moved together, in beautifully synchronised movements.

Their arms and legs pumped up and down like pistons. They had kept the same steady pace on horseback and on foot since they had began their unspoken race. They were head to head. Perfectly matched.

He turned to look at her face, but he could see no hint of tiredness. She was not going to break pace for anything or anyone. He cleared his throat and shouted over the wind and sound of the trampling hooves.

"My Lady looks tired…perhaps you would care to ride?"

A grin flickered across her face and she eyed him derisevely. He felt the blood rise to his cheeks, knowing that she could identify his alterior motive. She laughed and increased her pace, forcing him to work even harder to keep up.

"My Good Sir…are we wanting to rest?"

Her voice hollered over to him. Her tone was bewitching and laced with honey. He fought to agree with her. He forced himself to smile. His lips cracked as he did so. They were sore and chapped from the wind. The inside of his mouth was dry and as he spoke, the back of his throat tickled.

"Do not insult me! I was merely expressing my concern!"

"It is appreciated"

"The pleasure was mine"

"Of course, if you are feeling the strain and are wanting to use me as an excuse to get back on your horse, then I must point out that you are a bigger fool than you look"

"You flatter yourself! I am able to run for leagues yet"

"Then why is your face starting to resemble the colour of the roots we consumed this morning?"

"My Lady… you are beginning to be quite insufferable!"

"It is your decision…"

The conviction in her voice awoke a need in him to fight his aches and work to his limit. But he would not let her be his downfall. He would not make the same mistake that Eragon had made only the day before.

After all, he did not have to prove himself to her or anyone. However, her berating of his arrogance made his admitted defeat all the more difficult to endure.

In the end, he swallowed his pride and leapt up into Tornac's saddle. He uttered not a word. Respectfully, she remained silent.

Lia mounted Snowfire and after gently kicking the horses' sides, they rode hard, leaning over their saddles with their faces nestled to the necks of their beasts.

Feeling immense relief to be seated in the saddle once more, Lia sighed inwardly. She had wished to rest for some time, but had waited for Murtagh to be the first to suggest it.

After the initial feeling of fatigue had crept into her bones, she knew that his decline would soon follow. Despite his fluid movements, she had noticed the dark patches of sweat stain his cloak and his face start to redden.

And now, they were both riding once more. Already, after a few moments off their feet, they began to feel the benefit. Tornac and Snowfire, having been relieved from their rider's weights, were more than willing to bear them across more open ground.

They neighed and whinnied enthusiastically; putting on a fresh burst of speed as the smell of the distant water reached their flaring nostrils.

Murtagh loosened his hold on the reigns, secured himself comfortably with a gentle pressure of his thighs and felt the affliction of his wounds and aches begin to ease. Briefly closing his eyes, he delighted in knowing that he had an hour or maybe more to recuperate.

Glancing to his side, he couldn't help noticing that despite how confident, sure and unstoppable Lia had seemed whilst in motion; there was now a definite aura of relief which seemed to have eased the lines on her face.

He reached to his water skin with his good hand and took a long swig. He swished it around his mouth, before swallowing it and feeling the refreshing coolness soothe his insides.

Reaching out his arm to Lia, he offered her his water skin. Nodding her thanks, she accepted it and took a small sip and handed it back to him.

For miles and miles they had travelled in silence. Murtagh dared to break it. Not for the sake of a rest, but for the sake of conversation.

At least with Eragon, despite the previous tension, they had been able to converse. With Lia, everything seemed a challenge. He prepared himself for more silence, but decided that he could but try. He shouted across to her once more.

"You fascinate and disturb me Lady…how did you come to be who and what you are?"

His question was rudely phrased, but not unfair. These things had been eating at his mind ever since they had allowed her to travel with them. He guessed that he probably should have found some tactful way to word his question, but when it came to her, he found that all his sense of gallantry and propriety left him.

He could find no place for her in his world where females were of two forms of uselessness. His found that his growing admiration and respect for her was irritating, improper and misplaced.

Lia shot him a glare that bore straight into him and caused him to shiver involuntarily. She made her need for privacy inescapably clear with that one look. He almost regretted asking the question, if not only to see a human reaction pass across her face. Answering his question with a question, she yelled back at him.

"And what of you Murtagh? What has made you into this narrow minded, arrogant and yet oddly capable male?… what is your story?"

Clamping his mouth shut, he met her stare with one of his own. They awaited each other's answers, knowing perfectly well that neither would say a word.

Suspicion and intrigue caused him to stare at her as if he had seen her for the first time. Who was she? What secrets did she have that she felt she had to hide? What was her past? He tried to suppress these questions. He could not bring himself to ask questions which he himself could not answer.

No, he would not tell her a word. His past. His business. These were his own. Apparently, despite their differences, she too had something secret that was driving her to do the things that she had done. He held her stare before dropping his eyes and nodding somewhat gravely.

"My business is my own"

"As is mine"

There was nothing else to say. Angry and annoyed, they turned away from each other and focused on the ride ahead. It was only after a few minutes that he noticed her abruptly sit upright, tense and stare up at the clouds. Her brow creased in her concentration. He followed her gaze and saw nothing.

"What is the matter?"

She did not reply. Her eyes flickered to the side, briefly registering that he had spoken, but then they went back to the sky. Giving her a sour look, he chose to ignore her behaviour.

If she was going to ignore him, he was happy to be rid of the chore of having to interact with her. He focused his thoughts on reaching the lake, quenching his thirst and soaking his tired and grimy skin. Lia's thoughts were elsewhere…

Ever since Saphira had first touched minds with her, she had not let her guard down. She was angry with herself for allowing Saphira to enter her mind so easily in the first place. She had been trained better than that. Her laziness was an insult to all those that had ever taken the time to teach her.

After her encounter with the dragon, she made sure that she was prepared to block anyone that tried to break into the one fortress she was determined to defend.

Once, before they had left the camp, she had felt the beginnings of an intrusion. It was not Saphira. She wondered if it had been Eragon. It mattered not. Whoever it was had been repelled almost instantly. Satisfied with her defence, she had stayed vigilant.

And now, moments after Murtagh had refrained from asking her further questions, she felt Saphira's new and yet vaguely familiar presence approaching her own. Without hesitation, the mountain ascended upwards in the blink of an eye and protected her.

Whilst safe behind her shield, she took a moment to decide her course of action. Despite the colossal expanse of the mountain, she was still aware of Saphira's consciousness waiting patiently behind it, on the other side. As if she had been expecting nothing less.

Lia considered her options. She could resist for as long as possible and Saphira may back down. But then again, she could stay there for as long as she could. Dragons were powerful creatures and Lia was unsure how long she could endure the strain of holding up the mountain.

She already knew that Saphira meant no harm. It seemed ridiculous to waste her efforts, when they may be needed at a closer time.

Not wanting to deplete her mental energy, she let her guard down. Saphira's consciousness was kind…considerate…she did not leap into her mind…she slowly approached her and gently stroked her thoughts with her own.

Hearing the soft and amiable voice inside her head, she could not help but stare to the sky in search of its source.

Lia…

Saphira…

Aware that Murtagh was now attempting to break her concentration, she pretended to ignore him. Satisfied that he had been insulted enough to leave her alone, she returned her concentration to her link with Saphira.

You need not fear me Lia, for I mean you no harm…

One can never be too cautious…but I know… somehow…you speak the truth…

Eragon now knows of your ability

I suspected as much…

You will not come under any mental attack from us… that I can promise you

For now…

I believe that it is important for us to share an element of trust

I trust you…

You do not trust my Rider?…You think I would choose my companion so carelessly?

Her previously soft voice adapted a cutting and sinister edge.

I would never seek to pass judgement on your choices, for they are your own to make. But my experiences with human kind has somewhat differed to yours…it takes much to earn my trust and respect…but if it will please you, I will consent to him touching my mind…although it is against my better judgement…

Her words seemed to please Saphira. She heard a faint tittering in the back of her mind. Unsure as to what was being found amusing, she decided to remain silent. But there was something about the dragon's laughter that made her beam against her will.

Your trusting gesture warms me Lia…but I can assure you that Eragon shares your apprehension and will not contact you…not unless it is absolutely necessary.

How will I know?…I do not leave myself open to assault…not any more

Can you sense me before I approach?

Yes. But I am now accustomed to your presence

When Eragon reaches for you, you will know it is he, because he will seem strange and yet oddly familiar…that familiarity will be the part of me that he carries with him always…

Lia felt her thoughts drift. A sorrowful expression clouded her face and her eyes were filled with both wonder and regret.

That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard…

Saphira could sense Lia's awe at the bond, which she shared with her Rider. There were other feelings too, but they were being held at bay. Lia was careful to allow her feelings to be felt, but not the memories that were associated with them.

She was like a forbidden book where one was only permitted to stare at the alluring cover, but never read what mysteries lay printed on the pages. How Saphira longer to push past her feelings and share in her memories and see why this female was so strange.

But she resisted. As if Lia had sensed the temptation, her expression returned to one of deep concentration. It was as if the moment had never come to pass.

Very well…until then…if it is not rude of me to enquire…why do you seek me?

We are approaching the Lake. It is another hour by your two legs. Can you hold your pace until you reach our destination or do you wish to rest?

Lia struggled to hold her link, whilst turning to shout at Murtagh.

"The Lake is near… but an hour away…do you wish to rest or shall we ride?"

Murtagh, startled by her sudden attempt at conversation, gave her a peculiar look, before snorting and shaking his head.

"Your manner astounds me woman…you expect me to talk, but only on your terms!"

"If you are so eager for a rest, you need but ask?"

"I am more than capable of riding for another hour!"

"Then it's settled…"

Turning away from him, she relayed her answer to Saphira. Murtagh felt his rage taking hold of him and stared ahead of him, as if nothing else in the world mattered than reaching the Lake and being in the company of others.

We shall meet you by the Lake, by the safety of the mountains…

Farewell Saphira

Farewell Lia

Feeling the connection wither away was both a cause for relief and sorrow. She was not accustomed to sharing her consciousness with anyone, and yet, when Saphira spoke to her, it was as if she had never felt closer to any being in her life.

The closeness and the sheer intimacy of the act were enough cause for her to feel a bond forming. It was the start of a relationship. Of what sort and whether for good or ill, she was unsure. But it was the beginning…

Murtagh kicked Tornac's sides a little harder than necessary and the horse snorted his disapproval. He was ashamed that he had treated his beast so badly, after all the times he had bore him away from his foes. But there was nothing he wanted more than to reach this cursed lake.

Staring into the distance, he could see the mountains. But the ground was flat and the lake was no where to be seen. He grumbled under his breath and resisted the urge to make a comment and tightened his lips. His efforts did not last long. Irate and resenting her company, he burst into a string of complaints.

"You do not say when you wish to rest! You do not speak when spoken to! You then goad me for your own amusement! And now you think you can judge distance and time when this dammed lake is no where in our line of sight!"

Lia patiently waited for him to finish his outburst, before justifying herself composedly.

"I will rest when I am ready and not a moment before…I do not speak when I do not wish to…I will goad you for whatever amusement I can gain, for I know I shall receive no less from you good Sir…and as for how the information relating to this dammed lake was obtained…I have just been told!"

Murtagh threw his head back and laughed. Unable to tolerate his behaviour, Lia pulled on her reigns and Snowfire slowed to a stop. Hearing the scraping of the hooves behind him, Murtagh swung Tornac's head around and turned to face her.

For the first time, they had come to a stand still. Her face was set as stone. He saw that she was serious…or at least believed in what she had said. He folded his arms and gave her a sceptical smile.

"And who told you…Snowfire?…or was it Tornac?"

He leaned over until his face was by Tornac's ear and spoke in a cheerfully, sarcastic voice.

"Shame on you Tornac! You have never tried to speak to me all these years! I feel dishonoured!"

Lia inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, as she began to realise exactly how much she did not want to divulge this information to this nuisance of a travelling companion.

But she knew that it had to be done. If Eragon and Saphira were now aware, then he had a right to know as well. Exhaling, she opened her eyes to see him grinning from ear to ear- pleased with his taunts.

"Saphira spoke with me…she told me…she spoke to me in my mind"

Half expecting him to break into another disbelieving fit of laughter, she prepared herself to suffer more antagonistic behaviour. But his laughter had ceased.

At her words, a chill filled the air in between them. He stared at her malevolently. He sat up straight, his body rigid. In turn, she felt herself tense.

For once, she felt uncomfortable meeting his gaze. But she would not lower her eyes. If there was going to be a confrontation between them, she would prefer it to be on their terms. Right here and now.

The wind had dropped. The horses had embraced this opportunity to relax and were happily swishing their tails from side to side. Now that they were stationary, the need to shout over the background noise was unnecessary.

Every word could be heard. Every sigh. Every breath. Murtagh's dark and piercing eyes locked on to hers. His lips barely moved- but she heard the words.

His voice was steady and strong, but she could see his sudden change of attitude towards her. No longer was she the helpless female that he had once suspected. He sensed that she was a threat.

"You can read into minds…"

"No"

"But you just said that a dragon spoke to you…"

"She had to contact me"

"So you cannot read minds?"

"No"

He seemed to relax a little. Slouching in his saddle, he passed a hand across his forehead and brushed his long hair away from his eyes. Regardless of his assurance from her words, his face was still etched with doubt.

"Have you ever tried to?"

"My training never progressed farther than defence"

"You never answered my question?"

"Would you like me to read your mind?"

"Yes…"

Caught by surprise, she frowned.

"I would not know how…"

"Try…"

He hopped from his saddle and stood in front of his horse. His arms rested comfortably by his sides, but his hands were balled into fists. He bobbed his head in the direction of the space in front of him, indicating his wish for her to dismount.

Delicately sliding off her mount and landing softly on the ground, she carefully placed herself a few steps before him and rested her hands on her hips – never too far away from her swords.

"Try to enter my mind…"

Repeating his request, she felt compelled to comply. He did not believe her. The failure of her ability to carry out the task would ease his mind. But a part of her wanted to at least attempt the task.

Maybe it wasn't as difficult as they suspected. What harm could come to her? She did not want to think of it. She had heard a few stories about people testing abilities beyond their means. None of them had resulted in a happy ending.

"I'll try…"

Slowly, she closed her eyelids and began a slow, rhythmic way of breathing. In through her nose. Out through her mouth. In. Out. And so she continued, until she felt all her muscles relax.

Her heartbeat slowed. Her senses became more aware. The smell of the earth. The touch of the wind. The sound of the wild. She was slowly becoming one with her surroundings.

When she was sure that she could not obtain a further sense of peace and relaxation, she tried to reach with her mind. She felt ridiculous. There was no way for her to reach out with her mind.

She had no idea what she was doing. Instead, she tried to feel. With what, she did not know, but she searched her senses for anything usual. She tried to sense Murtagh and everything about him.

Breathing in, she could smell the sweet sweat on his skin and caked to his clothes. She could hear the rustle of the wind passing through his cloak and tousling his hair.

Faintly, she could hear his breathing…and slowly…ever so slowly…she could discern a faint, yet steady thumping sound. Was it a heartbeat? Was it hers? It wasn't.

She could feel her own heart and it was following a different beat. Her own beats were slow. Sometimes so far apart, she feared that it would stop. Did it belong to the horses? Something inside her told her that it didn't.

Unsure why, she raised her hand outstretched in front of her. Her hand stopped bare inches from his chest. Her fingers splayed apart and she reached for it…although what "it" was remained a mystery to her.

Murtagh had stared at her intently from the moment that she had closed her eyes, to the moment when peacefulness seemed to have enveloped her. She seemed completely relaxed in every sense of the word…and he found himself staring at this complete stranger before him.

He had his guard up, ready in anticipation. He was just waiting for her to pounce. But she seemed to spend an age in what appeared to be deep meditation. It was witnessing her level of concentration and care that convinced him that this genuinely was her first time.

In wonder, he stared at her hand as it approached him. He could have back away, but he did not. It was not a hostile gesture. He allowed her to reach for him – but she did not touch him. Her open palm floated before his chest and stayed there…as if she was trying to feel something… feel him.

He was not frightened. He was unsure what he was meant to feel. But he did not move and he did not attempt to stop her.

She focused all her concentration on the area before her outstretched hand. Keeping her eyes firmly shut, she relied on her senses to guide her. With the tips of her fingers, she sought to probe the air in front of him.

Minutes passed and she felt nothing. Disappointed, she sought to withdraw her hand, when she felt the beginnings of what she had hoped to sense: him.

It was something so small, but it was there. It was a faint glow of warmth. His warmth. The heat was being emanated from his body.

She felt it seep through her fingertips and crawl up her arms and into her being. And ever so slowly, she could feel the vibrations of his beating heart tickle her palm.

Lia couldn't help herself. Her features softened and a broad smile lighted up her face. Not wanting to lose this level of concentration, her eyes remained closed – but she focused even harder and felt both her hands reaching upwards, towards his face.

In undisguised awe, tinged with surprise, he realised that she could sense him. He could not quite understand how or why. She had not breached his mind, and yet he could see from the look on her face… the sudden understanding that awoke in her features…that she was aware of him in more than just his immediate physical sense.

A grin lit up her face. It startled him to see her raise her hands towards his face. She approached him like a lover: softly, tenderly and gently.

He felt his heart pound in his chest and his pulse start to race. What was she doing? Did she want to touch him? Did she need to touch him? Should he allow it? Did he want her to? The questions were endless and yet, he found that he stood still and waited to see what she would do next.

Her hands rested either side of his cheeks. Neither touched his face, and yet, he could feel a strange tingling sensation where her energy was flowing from her own body to his. The expression on her face was so peaceful, he found himself feeling tranquil and almost enjoying beholding her serene face.

She stopped her hands going any closer when she could feel the odd, yet definite sensation that she was only a finger's breadth from his face.

Feeling a sudden blast of warmth through her fingers, she guessed that she had made him blush with her unorthodox behaviour.

Hiding a smile, she eased her face into a neutral expression and probed further with all her senses. His pulse had quickened at first… but now it was getting slower…and slower…his breathing was calm…he was beginning to ease…

With her mind's eye, she dared to look up and stare determinedly into those eyes. The eyes of this stranger in her life: big, brown, beautiful… and yet… why did she feel as if she had seen them before?

Gazing deeply into them, she found herself lost in the reddish tint that surrounded the rich brown and she reached for what lay behind them…

Before she knew what had happened, she was sucked into his being. Terrified, she attempted to dig in the heels of her consciousness to keep her place. Her attempts were useless.

It was as if she was being sucked down into the centre of a whirlpool. She groped to stay within herself, but a force was pulling her much greater than her own.

A channel had opened and there was no escape. She felt herself leave her body and slam into his being. It was like passing through a strange, warm membrane between her existence and his.

Propelled by the force of her own mind, she found herself plummeting into the dark place that was the inside of his mind. She thought she would drown inside him. Having just entered the outskirts of his mind, she was already hurtling towards his core.

Her fright of being trapped inside his eternal darkness was put to an end, when she slammed hard, and very painfully, into a solid brick wall. It appeared out of no where.

She welcomed the agony as she felt herself abruptly return to her body and collapse on the ground in a messy heap. Although battered and bruised both physically and mentally, she was back within herself.

The attack had happened so suddenly. It was as if she had lost control of her senses and her body. Her face contorted and she fell limp. It must have lasted but a few seconds, but the force of her assault took its toll on her immediately. He experienced a sharp jab of pain as she entered him, but his defences prevented the rest.

He could only watch as she fell to the ground. She fell badly. Landing with little grace, she curled up into a foetal position and began to shake convulsively.

Fearing that he had caused her to push to herself beyond repair, he dropped to his knees and grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Worry and guilt crept into his voice as he shouted down to her.

"Lia!…Lia can you hear me?!"

Hey eyes flew open to meet his and her teeth chattered together, but she managed a small nod. Relieved that she was able to understand him and remained conscious, he unfastened his cloak and draped it over her.

Without a moments thought of his ill feelings towards her, he began to rub her back and arms over the cloak to start the blood circulating through her body once more.

He then worked his way to her legs, until finally her shivering stopped and she lay quietly staring at the dirt before her eyes.

"How do you feel?"

Against her will, she smirked and glanced at him with grateful eyes. Seeing the look in her eyes, he sighed and gave her a tired smile, before shaking his head in amazement.

When she spoke, some of her old arrogance crept back into her voice. However, instead of being irritated by it, he let it be a reminder that she was well and herself once more.

He found it odd that he had actually felt concerned. After all, what was she to him but a thorn in his side? He satisfied himself with the idea that he was obviously more concerned with facing the repercussions of the Rider, if he did not protect his one chance to reach the Varden.

"I feel ridiculous…but I owe you my thanks Murtagh"

"You owe me nothing"

"You could have probed my mind whilst I lay here like a cripple…but you did not"

Affronted, he jumped to his feet and peered down at her. He pointed a finger at her furiously and his jaw jutted forward.

"You think I am coward?! That I would dare to attack you whilst you were too weak to defend yourself! Who are you lady to pass such judgement on others? Damn you woman, you cause my blood to boil!"

His rage seemed to only entice her insults further. Gaining new strength from her obvious delight in unsettling him, she gingerly rolled to her side and sat herself cross-legged, staring up at him with a goading expression.

"I pass no judgement… I merely respect the fact that if you had tried, it would have been understood. But here I sit… an open book to you Murtagh…so what will you do? This would be the perfect opportunity for you to attack…decide…now"

She narrowed her eyes and held his tempting stare. He could see that her offer was no jest. For truly, she spoke the truth. She was now more vulnerable than she would ever be.

Her energy- both spiritual and physical- was depleted. If there was ever a time to delve into her deep and rip and tear at her treasured secrets, this was the moment.

Hunger for knowledge of her unknown caused him to take a step forward and loom over her. His shadow fell across her face. She seemed to lean backwards, as if she feared him…but her face remained set. For all the things he resented about her, he admired her for her courage.

The truth was that he too had no knowledge of reading into minds. He had witnessed the process and had been told fragments of information in his past. But the only thing that had ever concerned him was his own safety. It had taken many a year to practice the art of defence. He had never thought it necessary to learn the arts of mental offence.

Indulging in the fact that he could make her feel fear, he felt pleased, if only for a moment. It was a petty revenge, but it was his and he had enjoyed it. But the moment had passed and he took a step back and held out his hand expectantly.

"I am not playing your game my Lady…pass me my cloak…let us not keep the Rider waiting…"

After thrusting the cloak into his outstretched hand, she picked herself up. He saw her wince, but pretended not to notice. A purple bruise was already beginning to form on the side of her face where her head had hit the ground, but she showed no sign of suffering and patted the dirt from her clothes.

"It was never a game…but you chose the correct answer…"

She inclined her head knowingly, before carefully mounting Snowfire and with a small pat on his side, set him in motion. As if he had no existence in her world, she rode away without a backward glance.

He reached for Tornac's bridle and pulled the horse's head towards his and muttered sourly under his breath.

"At least in these painful circumstances, I have you my old friend…"

And after placing a gentle kiss on Tornac's nose, he mounted his steed and charged after his exasperating companion. Following behind, he chose not to ride by her side. It would be a short ride to the lake and he wanted to spend it alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Murtagh was just beginning to feel content with his own company, when they reached the lake. He slowed Tornac down to a casual pace and watched as Lia and Snowfire bounded towards the water's edge.

As soon as the lake was in sight, Snowfire was unstoppable. Sensing his eagerness, Lia could only hold onto the reigns tightly and let her steed bear her to their destination. A cloud of dirt rose from the ground, as they came to an abrupt stop.

Lia swung herself out of the saddle and watched as he raced towards the water and began to drink noisily. Smiling, she decided to join him.

Kneeling at the water's edge, she dipped her hands under the surface and allowed the ice cold water to rid them of the grime accumulated from the journey. After rubbing her palms over her hands, she cupped them, filled them with water and drank deeply.

The coolness of the fresh running water sent a delightful rush through her body. She then splashed water on her brow and closed her eyes briefly, as even the slightest contact to her head made her fresh bruise smart and sting.

Hearing the heavy thudding of hooves and footsteps behind her, she prepared herself to acknowledge Murtagh. Silently, he knelt beside her and similarly revived himself. Both with dripping faces, they turned to each other and nodded their greetings. It was a reluctant gesture on both their parts, but despite their differences, a small amount of respect was due.

As neither was in the mood to converse, they left their horses to enjoy a limitless supply of water, seated themselves on the ground and looked up to the sky. Up high above and circling them, Saphira and Eragon prepared to land.

Murtagh briefly acknowledged their presence in the sky before turning to glance at Lia. Taken by surprise, he saw that her eyes looked as if they were glazed with tears. She stared up at their comrades in the air, with a look of longing and amazement.

"Come now… you act as if you have never seen Saphira land before?!"

Lia stared at him incredulously and pointed to the sky desperately. He had to hold back a laugh at the look on her face as she attempted to reason with him.

"You mean to tell me that she does not take your very breath away?!"

Murtagh smirked, shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. After a brief upward glance he chuckled to himself. He could feel her eyes boring into him disapprovingly and met them without any hint of remorse for his words.

"Maybe the first time…but not any more"

"But she is a dragon!"

"And?"

"How many times had you actually seen a dragon before this occasion?"

"Never"

"And you do not find her presence wonderful?"

"I find her presence necessary. After all, what is a Rider without a dragon?"

"I do not understand you Murtagh or the way in which you think"

"I never asked you to"

"How can you not see what I see?"

"And what is that?…"

Lia gazed up at Saphira and spoke softly, but clearly and adoringly.

"I see the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my entire life…look at those scales…all those different shades of blue…see how the light reflects off them and she appears like a great jewel shining in the sky?"

Captured by her words, Murtagh could not help but turn his eyes to her face.

"Look at the magnificence of her wings! Their sheer span and the grace with which they carry her! See how she rides the currents and glides towards us? The deadliness and majesty of her claws. Her noble and yet kind face. Those large, beautiful eyes. She is a vision to behold… not to shun as some common fancy!"

Deep down, Murtagh believed as she did. He was deeply honoured to be in the position that he was in and he did find her incredible, if not often intimidating. But Lia displayed a deeper passion. It was beyond passion. It was love. He was surprised that she was capable of such an emotion; her nature seemed so cold. He himself was alien to the concept. He cleared his throat and dared to comment on her recital.

"I appreciate what she is…but you…you revere her…not that I think it is undeserving, but why?"

Lia's eyes dropped from the sky to the bare lands over which they had just traversed. She eyed the land dreamily.

"When I was a child…I used to love to hear stories of dragons. I was always told that they were not real. A bed time story. But I did not care. I believed. And I used to dream of them…that they would return…that I would get to see one…to ride one…" she added with a shaky laugh.

Murtagh grinned, amused. But he did not dare to interrupt her. Not whilst she was speaking in a civil tone. He would enjoy this moment.

"When I finally discovered that the myths were true and that Galbatorix had the only live dragon in existence, I was heartbroken. To know that such an amazing creature could fall into the hands of such a twisted being. It angered and saddened me deeply. So when I heard tales of other eggs, my hope was rekindled. I have waited for this moment all my life…and here I am…face to face with my dream"

"Is she everything that you hoped for?" Murtagh asked, curiously.

Smiling widely, she nodded vigorously and her eyes lit up with joy.

"She is everything I could have ever hoped for and more"

Her energy and enthusiasm was contagious. Her smile was dazzling and her eyes hid nothing. All her emotion radiated from them and he could not avert his gaze from her. His insides warmed and he became aware of a battle going on inside him. He wanted to dislike her. He wanted to continue resenting her. It was so much easier than having to handle these strange occasions where he would see her in a different light.

Lia found it strange that Murtagh had not made fun of her dreams. He had listened to her and given her his full attention. On one level, she found it a breakthrough in their bitter relationship. On the other hand, she found it unexpectedly bewildering.

Whilst he was in this amiable mood, she decided to ask him a question which had been niggling at the back of her mind since the day that they had first met. Her smile faltered and she spoke without looking at him.

"Murtagh…why do you resent women so?"

As if broken from a trance by her words, he shuffled from side to side uncomfortably and spoke to the ground, in a low voice.

"I do not resent women"

"You make a great show of appearing as if you do"

"Yes…well…I save that just for you my Lady…"

With a sideways glance, he saw her roll her eyes; unimpressed. He grinned and cleared his throat.

"But all humour aside…I do not resent women kind…. I have just never known any who have shown their worth as human beings"

Lia felt her cheeks burn with anger. She knew that women often had no real place in society, but to be placed beneath the rank of "human being" was too much to endure.

Regardless of who he was or what he had been through, it was no justification for such a narrow-minded observation of the opposite sex. After all, was she not a prime example of what a properly trained female could achieve? Too angry to even talk, she could only listen.

Murtagh didn't need to look at her to know that he had upset her. She masked her anger and hurt with complete silence. He let it linger, before continuing to answer her question.

"My mother abandoned me when I was young. The women where I was raised…they were merely shadows of people. They were of two kinds. Poor, meek and willowy servants and rich, disgustingly large ladies of leisure. None served any purpose other than to exist. They had no real use. No talents to offer. Even tavern whores were looked more kindly upon, as they at least had something to give in return"

Grinding her teeth together, her jaw slipped and she tasted blood as she bit her own tongue. This male. This young man. This imbecile beside her! How she wanted nothing more than to thrash him. Who was he to discuss and decide what made a woman's worth? And of all the possible insults, he chose a whore as his prime example!

Not able to utter even the smallest of noises, she tried to think of something. Anything other than what she was listening to. She was angry with herself. Why had she even asked him?

Because of a moment of weakness that arose, when she suspected that he may posses a shred of decency. How she wished Eragon and Saphira would simply crash land at that very moment; saving her from committing any grievous bodily harm, that she was so close to inflicting on this idiot beside her.

Murtagh could see that his answer was not what she wanted to hear. But she had asked him a question, which he had been willing to answer honestly. It was no problem of his if she was unable to handle the truth or his personal opinion.

However, against his will, he found himself speaking his mind. Embarrassed, he reached a hand behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck with his fingertips. He mumbled almost incoherently.

"And then there is you…"

Unable to look him in the eye without wanting to strike him, she spat out her angry words.

"What of me?"

"You are different"

"Different…"

"Yes…you do not fit in any category that I have ever known"

"How that must disappoint you"

"You do not disappoint me… you baffle me…you are different because…"

Giving him a long and hard look, she waited to hear exactly what he thought of her. He seemed to struggle to search for the words. Either that or he knew what he wanted to say, but was reluctant to say it. His eyes told her that it was the latter. She would wait. It was bound to be something she would later wish she had never heard.

Murtagh cursed himself for even starting the sentence. What could he say? He couldn't possibly tell her the truth. The fact that she was different because she represented hope for womankind. That he admired her. That he almost saw her as an equal. He was not remotely close to being ready to divulge his thoughts.

Much to his appreciation, a welcoming distraction in the form of Saphira and Eragon appeared, just when his silence was beginning to become noticeable.

With the sudden blast of wind from Saphira's wings, Lia whipped her head around and laughed as if the feeling was the most pleasurable she had ever experienced.

Thankful for their impeccable timing, Murtagh rolled his eyes and prayed that she would not resume her line of questioning. Turning his attention to Eragon, he watched as he climbed down from his dragon's back.

As if he were a changed man, Eragon greeted them both with what could have almost passed as a warm smile. Murtagh suspected that Saphira had spoken with him. Either way, he could not deny that that sight of a friendly face, regardless of whether it was forced or not, was a welcoming sight.

Walking up to them, with noticeably stiff legs from his flight, he stood in front of them and inclined his head. They each inclined their head in turn. Saphira slowly padded towards them, glancing at Murtagh briefly, before fixing her eyes on Lia. A small puff of smoke emanating from her nostrils and a kinder look appeared in her eyes.

Lia smiled, and somewhere in the back of her mind, felt Saphira's warm, unthreatening presence briefly reach out to her in a form of greeting.

Eragon felt more than noticed Saphira's actions and chose to politely ignore it- despite the slight discomfort it caused him. He satisfied himself by distracting Lia and addressing her directly.

"Lia…did Snowfire bear you well?"

"Yes. You have my thanks Rider. He is an incredible beast. I have never seen a horse so well disciplined"

"You are most welcome…and Murtagh, how fare you?"

A mischievously glint appeared in Murtagh's eye as he answered the question.

"I fare well Rider. My limbs are a mite sore, but nothing that shall not be resolved by this rest…but enough about us…how fare you Rider? All that flying must be taking toll on you! If you need further rest from all that sitting, please do not hesitate to let us know"

Eragon swallowed hard and felt Saphira's whispering in his mind, telling him not to take the bait. Much to his surprise, Lia was the one who leapt to his defence. Throwing Murtagh a pitiful glance, she stated her argument matter-of-factly.

"What do you want of him Murtagh? He is a Dragon Rider after all. A petty one he would be if he did not ride his dragon!"

Unable to handle being put down by her in front of Eragon, Murtagh opened his mouth to retaliate. He was cut short by the sight of Saphira marching towards him and thrusting her face inches from his and letting out a soft growl. The sudden appearance of her head beside his, caused him to roll backwards. Eragon and Lia both laughed and Saphira also seemed to chuckle.

With what little was left of his pride, he scrambled back to a sitting position and cast Saphira a wary glance before letting his anger simmer. Seeing Murtagh's expression, Eragon thought it wise to cease his laughter; however, a smirk still played upon his lips.

Lia rose to her feet and glanced over her shoulder at the sight of the welcoming lake.

"You gentlemen can remain here and take delight in trading these pleasantries…I am going into the lake"

Taking off her cloak, she cast it to the ground and removed her boots and prepared to leave. She had taken but two steps, before Murtagh's voice reached her ears.

"Careful my Lady, you may catch a chill!"

Stopping in her tracks, but not turning around, she replied in a curt manner.

"With company such as yours, a chill will be the least of my worries"

Before he had time to respond, she ran towards the lake at full speed and he watched as she entered the water. Loud splashes reached their ears, with each step she took into the shallows.

After a minute, she was wading through the water waist deep. She stood still and then descended under the surface for a few seconds. For a while, there was no sign of her and then, she emerged, head and shoulder breaking through first and with a gasp, she shook her long hair and droplets flew here and there, reflecting the light.

Eragon noticed that Murtagh was staring at her and found the urge to irritate him hard to resist.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare at a bathing woman?"

Unintentionally, he had slipped into a trace. Cringing at Eragon's words, he snapped his head around and spoke in his defence.

"I wasn't staring at her!"

"It looked like you were from where I am sitting"

"Well you should try looking a little closer next time"

"If you look any closer, I may have to restrain her from punching you!"

Glaring, Murtagh stood and began to take off his boots and his cloak. Eragon watched him amusedly. Murtagh motioned his head towards the lake and grinned.

"Say and think whatever you wish Rider…I happen to think that taking a swim isn't such a bad idea"

"Bathing with your Lady…how romantic!"

Eragon puckered his lips and made kissing gestures, forcing Murtagh to sneer at him and shake his head, before sniffing the air exaggeratedly and wafting a hand before his face.

"I intend to be clean…and you shouldn't rule out the chance to bathe either…unless you enjoy walking around and smelling like a fresh, steaming pile of dung!"

Self- consciously, Eragon lifted his arms and bent his head to check his state of hygiene. The shock of his own stench was enough to make him recoil. Murtagh laughed and ran. Eragon watched Murtagh splash into the water. Whether by accident or on purpose, he was swimming in Lia's direction.

_He has a point you know…you are smelling rather ripe little one…a bathe would benefit you…and give you a chance to freshen up_

Saphira's mocking, yet loving tone was enough to make him start to untie his boots. She turned her head to face the lake and the two characters swimming near its centre.

Already feeling refreshed from his short swim; Murtagh saw Lia a few metres away from him and made his way towards her. She had been swimming leisurely when she had spotted him. She stopped and waited. He held his position when he was nearby. As they both tread water, they regarded each other with critical, yet comical expressions. Lia was the first to speak.

"So you are familiar with the concept of bathing? How delightful!"

"And what exactly was that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, except that for the past two days I have had to endure your delightful stench"

"My stench!? Lady, I hate to break this news to you, but you have barely smelled like a bed of roses either!"

"Do not take it the wrong way! I am grateful! I am sure that being downwind of your terrible odour has made Snowfire run all the more faster on this day"

"My Lady…do not push me with your insults! You haven't exactly been producing feminine odours yourself!"

"Well at least my odours wouldn't fell a grown Kull!"

"Oh really!…well!…well?…you have bad hair!"

At this weak and pathetic retort, they both broke into grins and Lia couldn't help but respond in a similarly childish manner.

"Well at least I'm not ugly!"

Grinning from ear to ear, Murtagh laughed out loud and considered his next words carefully. His thoughts, however, were rudely interrupted by an unexpected splash of water spraying into his face. Spitting out a mouthful of water, he saw her giggling… almost… he thought… like a girl.

She eyed him playfully and didn't even wait for him to respond. Lying on her back, she began kicking water at his face and he found himself chuckling and diving under the water to be out of reach of her silliness.

Taken by surprise by her immaturity, Lia's giggles turned to silence and she eased herself back onto her front and immediately noticed that Murtagh was no where in sight. The water was perfectly still, apart from the ripples that she was creating with her arms to stay afloat.

Concerned, she began to turn her head rapidly from side to side to catch a glimpse of him, but he appeared to have disappeared. Worriedly, she whispered under her breath.

"Damn you Murtagh…if you are playing games wi…."

Her last word was ripped from her as she found her legs being pulled from underneath her and felt herself being dragged below the water.

Eragon had just folded his cloak and was heading towards the lake, when he saw that Murtagh and Lia appeared to be no where in sight. Worriedly, he turned to Saphira, who seemed to radiate joy and mischief. Alarmed, he pointed at the lake and shouted at her.

"Where are they?!"

_Patience little one…look!_

Turning his attention back to the water, he saw them both erupt from the centre of the lake laughing like a couple of young children, dunking each other's heads underwater and splashing each other, as if they had spent their entire childhood in each others company.

Unable to comprehend their ever-changing manner, he sighed and carefully stepped into the water. Shivering from the cold, he slowly moved on, until he was knee-deep and then began to splash water on his face.

_Will you not swim with them?_

_I do not feel like it_

_You are being ridiculous!_

_I just want to be refreshed…I feel no need to waste time on such indulgences_

_This may be the last chance you have…_

_It does not matter_

_Very well…you leave me no choice_

Turning to impress the sincerity of his words, he was caught unawares as she leapt into the air with a small flap of her large wings, grabbed at him with her claws and lifted him off the ground. With a yell of surprise, he shouted at her.

"Saphira! Let me go!"

She had carried him half way across the lake to where Murtagh and Lia were still enjoying their game and at his words, she replied smugly and released him from her grip.

_If you insist!_

The height from which he fell was not so high, but he cursed loudly in frustration and straightened his body as he saw the water approaching fast. Like a knife through butter, he sliced through the surface and plummeted into the lake.

He closed his eyes tight and when he finally stopped moving, opened them and looked up to see the floating figures of his comrades up above.

With all his might, he kicked his legs as fast as he could and swam to the surface. When he finally gasped some air, he was face to face with Murtagh who was whooping at the sky. Lia was on his other side, sniggering.

"Rider! You joined us! How honoured we feel that you cared to grace us with your presence!"

Murtagh's words were mocking, but his manner was friendly and despite his reluctance to join them, now that he was there, Eragon felt the effects of this playful atmosphere lift his spirit. Lia frowned at Murtagh, but with a smile that told them that she was jesting.

"Now Eragon! As a Rider and saviour of all our peoples, are you willing to let him speak to you in that manner?"

Facing Lia, he let a thoughtful expression pass across his face before, rushing at Murtagh and wrestling with him. Both spluttering, they emerged seconds later to see an entertained Lia, with a sly smile on her lips and an inviting glint in her eyes.

Unable to resist, they both lunged towards her and she screamed as they shoved her head beneath the water; both of them laughing wickedly.

Swooping above the lake, Saphira flew in a circle and watched the three of them. A pulsating mass in the water. Their laughter bounced off the surrounding mountain walls and she felt their joy. She would watch over them whilst they enjoyed this time being the children that they cold not be, in a world where they were forced to grow up too fast.

Their games lasted for a further half an hour, before they swam back towards where the horses were stood waiting for them. They slowly stood and walked out of the water. Dripping from head to toe, but in good humour, they walked in companionable silence, until their feet touched the soil.

"Give me your tunics…"

Both young men halted and stared at her quizzically as she held her hands out and beckoned with her index fingers, expectantly. Eragon raised a confused brow and glanced at Murtagh nervously.

"Why?"

"Because…difficult as this may be to comprehend…despite everything that I am… I am still a woman and capable of simple female tasks… such as washing clothes"

Murtagh shrugged his shoulders and began pulling his soaking wet tunic over his head. Screwing it up in his hands, he held it at arms' length for Lia to take. Distracted by the sight of his impressively sculpted abdominal muscles and a long, jagged scar across his side, Lia stared.

Not wanting to seem like the shy adolescent that he was, Eragon removed his own tunic and was shamefully aware that despite his fairly well developed body for his age, his was no where near as impressive as Murtagh's.

Noticing that Lia hesitated to reach for his garment, he followed her eyes to where they rested. The look on her face was one of curiosity and admiration. He himself found it difficult not to stare at the way her damp clothing stuck to her figure and accentuated all her curves and feminine charms.

He sensed that she was unaware of her actions and cleared his throat dramatically, causing her to look up and snatch his tunic from his hand.

"See something you like my Lady?"

His words caused her to bite down on her lip and scowl, before adding with a downward glance.

"No… but clearly you do"

Paranoid, he quickly glanced at his lower region, checked that his thoughts were not being betrayed by his manhood and then glared at her, as he realised her cruel joke.

Abruptly turning to grab the tunic out of Eragon's hands, Lia returned to the lake and began to scrub and wring the tunics to the best of her ability, whilst scolding herself for allowing her gaze to linger on Murtagh's torso for longer than necessary.

After a few minutes, having done all the she could, she laid the tunics on the ground beside the two of them and sat herself in between them both.

Bread and cheese had already been removed from their pack of provisions and they were already feasting on their simple meals. A large slab of cheese and a generous chunk of bread sat atop her cloak, awaiting her. Hungrily, she grabbed them and began to sate her appetite.

For a while, they sat, ate and enjoyed occasionally glancing towards the lake and appreciating the nearby scenery. But all too fast, the relaxing moment had passed and they were ready to discuss their next plans. From nearby, Snowfire and Tornac approached them and stood by their side.

As before, Eragon rolled open his map of Alagaesia and pin pointed their whereabouts, by placing a small stone upon the picture of the lake. Looking at their destination and the safest routes to travel, Eragon assessed the benefits of various routes and finally sighed dramatically, before looking up at his companions.

"We could take the safe route along the mountains, but it would still eventually involve cutting across a vast amount of open land in order to avoid the villages. We do not have time. I suggest that from here, we cut across the land and head directly to Gil' Ead. No route is safe. But this route will prove faster. Judging by our current rate of travel, we should be there in four or five days – depending on how hard we push ourselves"

Lia nodded and Murtagh shrugged, knowing full well that he had no real choice in the matter. Acknowledging their acceptance, Eragon continued.

"We reach Gil' Ead. We stock up supplies and then…"

He glanced at Lia to finish his sentence.

"Through the Hadarac desert and to the mountains… I can guide you from there"

Pleased, Eragon rolled up the map and spoke his thoughts aloud.

"…Finally…to the safety of the Varden"

Murtagh let out an angry laugh, before a sudden bitter mood washed over him and he sat in a brooding silence. Eragon eyed him carefully.

"Why is that amusing?"

Not meeting his eyes, Murtagh spoke to the ground, but his every word dripped with venom.

"The Varden is only safe for some…some of us may not be so welcome…I for one shall escort you to the front door…but that is as far as I go…"

"But the Varden is the only chance we have as outlaws. They will welcome us with open arms!"

"Rider…I can guarantee you that I am as safe out here, if not safer, than I would be inside their welcoming walls"

"You refuse to come with us to safety?"

"I've already told you, there is no safety awaiting me there!"

"But this is ridiculous! You saved my life! The least I can do is ensure that I see you reach a place where no harm will befall you. I owe you that much?!"

"Are you not listening to my words you stubborn fool?! I will not be safe with the Varden! You owe me nothing! And if you were to drag me to them, it would be poor payment for my efforts to keep you alive!"

"But I cannot rest knowing that we left you in danger!"

Murtagh rose to his feet and clenched his fists, until his knuckles were white with rage. He eyed Eragon with contempt and shouted down at him.

"Damn you Rider! Leave me be! I am not one of your poor, wretched dream folk that need to be saved! I can take care of myself! You cannot save everyone!"

Shocked and taken aback by his words, Eragon disliked this change in Murtagh. He was suddenly overly aware of how little he knew about him. What could he have possibly done in his life that would earn him enmity with the Varden? He frowned, as concern and suspicion penetrated his thoughts. He asked firmly and accusingly.

"Murtagh…what have you done?…what have you done that is so terrible that the Varden will not take you?…do you endanger us?…tell me right now…"

"What have I done? What did I do that was so terrible?! I was BORN!"

Murtagh yelled angrily and shook his fists in the air. Even more baffled than before, Eragon got to his feet and edged away from him, not knowing what to say or do.

Saphira, aware of the possible threat to her Rider, jabbed her head forward, baring her many rows of razor sharp teeth and roared menacingly.

Tornac, still unaccustomed to the presence of a dragon whinnied loudly and reared up on his hind legs. It all happened so quickly, that no body was able to stop it.

Murtagh's eyes widened as he recoiled from Saphira and then saw what was about to occur. His lips formed to shout Eragon's name, but by the time the word left his lips, it was too late.

Eragon heard Saphira roar and then saw the fear in Murtagh's face, as he was about to say something. There was a loud neighing directly behind him and he turned rapidly, to face the startled horse.

If he had had but a few more seconds, he may have been able to ease the beast's mind. But he didn't even have a fraction of a second. The moment his eyes rested on Tornac, two front hooves crashed into his chest, something inside him exploded and he felt the air whoosh out of him as he hit the floor.

When he was finally able to find his voice, he groaned in agony, as every motion that he made caused excruciating pain to rack through his middle. Even breathing hurt beyond compare.

Murtagh raised his hands to his face; aghast and merely stood and gaped at where Eragon lay, moaning and injured. Lia quickly rushed towards Eragon.

Before she could reach him, Saphira growled and leapt in front of him protectively. Lia was greeted with a threatening stare, which she returned without fear. Speaking aloud, she dared to order the dragon.

"You can stand in my way Saphira… or you can let me pass and help him…the choice is yours…but I suggest that if you want to know what ill has befallen him, you will let me about my business!"

Unimpressed with the manner in which she was addressed, but aware that she was left with no choice, Saphira inclined her head, but hissed softly as Lia walked around her side to where Eragon lay.

Ignoring the aggressive behaviour, Lia marched past the frozen form of Murtagh and crouched down to examine the Rider. His eyes were shut tightly and his teeth were clenched together, as if he were suffering greatly. She gently lay a hand on his arm. Flinching, fresh agony to seared through his chest, and he yelled, causing himself more pain.

Saphira glared down at the young woman and reached out for her mind, none too gently. In this instance, it was easy. The current emergency had caused her to forget to keep up her guard and she found her target without any resistance. Angrily, she spoke her mind.

_You had better not have hurt him…for I swear, if you do more damage than good, you will have me to deal with!_

Irritated by the outburst and yet understanding the reasons behind the words, Lia looked down at Eragon's face, but replied to Saphira's words.

"Saphira…I will never hurt him…he is in a lot of pain…but in order to check what is wrong, he will experience some discomfort…in all likelihood, he will probably scream…I would not put him through this agony if I did not think it would be for his greater good…so I ask you to let me do this without any further interruptions…neither physical nor mental"

Saphira did not reply. But Lia felt a release, as her mind was emptied of this alien consciousness. She lowered her face towards Eragon and spoke kindly.

"Eragon… I want you to listen to me…I know this must be very painful for you, but I am going to have to touch where you were kicked to see what damage has been done…can you let me?"

With tears trickling from his closed lids, he slowly nodded and tightened his lips. Inhaling deeply and preparing herself to do this as quickly and thoroughly as possible, she reached towards his chest and touched the two, large purple welts that had almost instantly formed. He began to shiver at her touch, and as she probed and prodded the area with her fingers, he could not stop a whimper from escaping from his lips.

Saphira, feeling his pain to a certain degree, wanted to rip Lia's hands from him. But she refrained and focused her thoughts on the fact that this was for his good. Reaching out to Eragon, she tried to soothe his mind, but to no avail.

After a minute of assessing his wounds, Lia stood and faced Saphira.

"He has fractured his ribs…badly…he will heal…but it will be a long process and he will not be able to ride a horse…the motion will cause him agony beyond compare…you will have to carry him from now on…"

Turning to face Murtagh, she gave him a pitiful shake of her head as he stood, stroking Tornac's nose and avoiding all association with the situation.

"We need to make some bandages…we need to tighten them about his chest and we need to help him up onto Saphira…we…not I, Murtagh…I need your help"

Giving Tornac one final pat, he picked his cloak off the floor and began to tear strips from it. Lia cut strips from her own with her knife, until they had a sufficient amount to fulfil their purpose.

With great care, they lifted Eragon to a seating position. Exhausted and almost numb from the pain, he had little strength to struggle or moan. A cold sweat was dripping from his brow and dark circles were now beneath his eyes.

Murtagh held him in place, whilst Lia produced a small jar of some salve from her cloak pocket. Carefully, she smeared some of the vile smelling grease over his wounds and winced as she saw the pain that her touch was causing him.

She then tied the bandages tightly about his ribs and with the utmost care, eased him into his tunic. Lia then ran to the lake, soaked an unused piece of cloth in the water and used it to dab at his forehead.

Eragon was ashamed of himself for having screamed like a woman, but the pain was too much. In all his life working on a farm he had experienced all kinds of accidents. He had suffered many breaks as a result of both work and play. But as of yet, this was the worst he had ever suffered.

Every touch made him want to convulse. Even the simplest of movements made him feel crippled with agony. Now that his chest was bandaged tightly, it made his movements less painful, but it was still there.

They helped him to his feet and carried him towards Saphira, who had lowered her belly to the ground, so that they could place Eragon upon the saddle.

After a few minutes, they managed to seat him as comfortably as they could and strap his legs in place at her sides. When they were done, they stepped away, stood side by side and surveyed him with worried eyes.

Pity, pain, embarrassment, humiliation and defeat. All these feelings swamped him and he wanted nothing more than to cry. But he couldn't. His anger at his pride caused him to scream out, regardless of the effects on his wound.

"DAMN YOU MURTAGH! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT CURSE LIA SINCE SHE JOINED US, BUT IT IS YOU WHO ARE THE LIABILITY! YOU AND THAT STUPID HORSE! IF THIS IS THE ONLY KIND OF HELP YOU HAVE TO OFFER ME, THEN I DON'T WANT IT!"

Murtagh's face turned white, but he said nothing. He merely lowered his head and accepted the outburst. Chest heaving, Eragon was determined to continue his verbal assault, when Lia spoke with a loud authority.

"Enough!…Eragon…you are wasting precious energy that could be used for healing your wounds. Go. Fly with Saphira. When and if you find a safe place for us to rest, contact me"

Angry that he had not been allowed to finish his rant and yet relieved that he no longer had to speak, he simply nodded gravely and turned his face away from hers.

Addressing Saphira, Lia spoke with a gentler tone, but still filled with the same assertiveness.

"Saphira…he is in your care now…we have done all we can do to help him… do not over exert yourself…glide where you can…any vigorous motions will make him feel worse than he already is…go now…we shall speak when the time is right…"

Not even in the slightest mood to tolerate having Saphira fix her with one of her glares, she turned on her heel and marched towards Murtagh. Feeling a blast of air touch the back of her neck, she knew that Saphira and Eragon had left the ground.

Whilst she previously would have wanted nothing more than to watch them ascend to the sky, her focus was on Murtagh, who was now shaking with fury.

She approached him until she was but a step away. Looking down at her face, he let his hate filled eyes rest upon hers and his lip lifted into a snarl.

Her expression remained one of disgust. She gazed at him, as if he were nothing worth being permitted to exist. Slowly, wordlessly, but surely, their emotions and anger began to bubble and boil inside them, until they were ready for whatever was to follow...

Up above, Eragon sat as straight as he could manage, in an almost semi-conscious state and tried to focus all his energy on mending himself. But it was a fruitless effort. He barely had enough energy to stay upright, let alone conduct magic upon himself.

However, despite, his lack of efforts, he could feel a warm sensation burrowing through his body, as if it were searching for something. He knew it was Saphira, trying her best to help him heal and ease his pain. To a certain degree, she had helped him. But to sustain her flight, she too could not spend all her efforts on magic.

Her thoughts washed over his and over all the sympathy and sorrow for his agony, she seemed to feel guilt more than anything. Unable to talk aloud without his chest expanding and his ribs moving, he was grateful for their mental link. He questioned her feelings, whilst gently patting her large side.

_Why do you feel the way that you do?_

_You scorned Murtagh, but it was my fault…_

Saphira's voice trailed off in his head, as if she were a small child confessing a bad deed to a parent.

_How can you even think to blame yourself for his actions?!_

_But were they his? I over-reacted! If I had not tried to scare him, then that ignorant beast would not have trampled you!_

_You did what you thought was in my best interests and for that, I love you!_

_I should have thought. I know that inferior animal remains skittish around me! Of all the terrible things I could have done, I have acted in a rash way that has caused you a great injury!_

_I do not feel so bad…_

Eragon tried to lie, but he heard her sorrowful laugh chide him for even attempting to mislead her. Their feelings were connected in such a way that she could feel everything that he did. Because of her size and strength, it did not affect her in the ways that it did him- but she was aware of how sensitive and fragile human bodies were in comparison to her own.

_Do not seek to ease my guilt little one… you are my charge as much as I am yours…I have failed you today and you have my word that it will never happen again._

_But Saphira I…_

_Do not interrupt me! Hear my words and accept them, for I will never let my actions lead to your hurt again. Do you believe me little one?_

Of course I do… 

Her gratitude and love towards him increased and her guilt and sorrow lessened, although they remained in the back of her mind. He didn't want to argue with her or upset her in this state, so he simply let his love for her shine above all else.

And what of Murtagh… 

If he could have found the strength to frown at that moment, he would have done so. But he was spent. The most he could managed was a sharp intake of breath, as he struggled not to speak aloud.

Must we speak of him now? 

_Despite his outburst, he meant you no harm. His problem with the Varden may be suspicious to say the least, but he has still offered to guide and protect us and he did save your life…_

_He could get us killed…_

_We are just as prone to attacks with or without his presence. To have him with us will only aid our safety. And if he has trouble with the Varden, he has told us he will stay away, therefore not jeopardising our passage to their sanctuary._

_So you think I should just forgive his actions and let him continue to travel with us?_

_In short… yes… Eragon… I will not have you place all the blame on him for your pain...I understand and feel that you suffer, but do not let it dumb your wits, nor your judgement…search yourself and see that it was a terrible accident resulting from two individual outbursts of emotions…his and mine…did you not see the look on his face? The boy was mortified at the sight of your injury!_

_You still think he has a part to play in our future?_

_Yes_

_Then I shall think on it…_

_I shall not press you further. We have a long flight and you can ponder these questions to your heart's desire. But above all, rest…nothing heals the body like sleep. Close your eyes little one…_

_But…_

He started to protest, but he heard her dreamy, soothing voice speak over and over again.

_Close your eyes…close your mind…close your eyes…close your eyes…_

He felt his eyelids droop. No more did he fight the urge to stay awake. Saphira's voice began to fade as sleep took him and once more, he found himself sat on top of the hill, with Roran smiling by his side.

Still standing by the lake, Murtagh had reached the end of his tether and stormed away from Lia, pacing back and forth and ranting like a mad man.

"What is it about you that is so special? Why does he favour you over me? What have you done that has earned him such loyalty and respect?! Curse you woman! I am the one that saved his life! Me! I saved his life and I helped him bury the old man! I was his saviour! If one of us should have his gratitude, it should be me! Why? Why?! Why does he favour you?!"

Lia watched him warily, aware that he was on the edge of insanity and they were alone. Trying to speak to him calmly, she answered him.

"I do not know what you want me to say Murtagh? Because I am better than you are? I cannot answer that. I do not know you. He spoke his words in anger. He was suffering great agony. He did not mean his words. We will make amends at our next gathering"

Picking his now dry tunic off the floor, he rammed it over his head. Marching straight up to her, he jabbed a finger towards her chest and shook his hair away from his eyes, angrily.

"Why am I always the suspicious one? He knows nothing of me and yet I always seem to give off this impression that I am the one to be mistrusted! What about you?! You are the one that can speak with Saphira?! You are the one that can almost read minds?! How am I a threat to his cause with a travelling companion such as YOU!?"

His accusations caused her careful manner to dissolve, as her hurt at his words overrode her common sense. Instead of taking a step back from him, she dared to step forward until they were only inches apart.

"How DARE you accuse me of being untrustworthy! How DARE you twist my capabilities and turn them into poison!? YOU are the one who holds such secrets that the Varden will not take you! NOW who is the one who seems suspicious?"

"Oh the truth is spilling out now my Lady! Why don't you speak your mind?! I am interested to hear you theories!"

"I have no theories you ignorant and stupid bastard! You are the one hurling these accusations around and losing your mind!"

"So now I'm crazy as well?! Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been called that! But at least I don't have the characteristics of a potential traitor!"

"A traitor?!"

"Yes! With your skills, your abilities, you could be an assassin, someone hired to spy or even to kill the Rider! Yes! You're the damn problem!"

"Do your insults know no end?! I have dedicated my life to this cause! And you accuse me of treachery? You!!.."

"You what?!"

"You..!!"

"SAY it my Lady…I want to hear what a traitor has to say to me!"

She opened her mouth to utter her final insult, when her eyes locked onto his and something clicked. Something inside her snapped and it was as if a series of cogs had been set in motion and she felt her head spin.

Staring into those eyes, she was aware of the manic glint...of their familiarity…and then the cogs stopped and she knew. She knew those eyes. And upon realising to whom they belonged, all the blood drained from her face…she felt her knees turn to jelly…but fought to stay upright. Stumbling backwards a few steps, she raised a shaking hand and pointed at him in terror.

Murtagh waited for her to slip up, to speak works which would dig her own grave. To admit that she was the cause of his misery. Or at least suggest that she may have been a spy of some sorts. But instead, she seemed to stop and stare at him. And then…some realisation hit her…he didn't know how…he didn't know why…he had felt no intrusion in his mind…but she edged away from him and the fear in her face told him that she knew. Somehow, she knew. His anger was increased by the fact that he was left with no other option...if she knew his secret; she would have to be dealt with.

For a moment, she was frozen to the spot. Trapped in her nightmare. Thos eyes were taunting her with their very existence. The fact that his bloodline was still allowed to live was an insult to every memory she had every possessed and held dear.

As the reality of the situation hit her, she was aware of what she had to do. This was no longer Murtagh, the irritating and obnoxious young man. This was her enemy. He had to die. She had rehearsed this speech for his father, a speech that would never be used… but now, she would amend it for the son of Morzan The Forsworn- murderer of thousands.

Her voice was steady. Her heart was true. She would feel no regret. She would do what was essential to the welfare of this world. One of that bloodline should never be allowed to exist.

"Son of Morzan…I will not let your cruelty or madness taint this world!"

He eyed her almost sorrowfully before laughing bitterly and pulling out his blade, holding it at the ready.

"You think you are the first to try and kill me? Think again my Lady! Morzan was my father, but not by my choice! I have dedicated my life to survival and overthrowing Galbatorix. Believe me or not, it matters little. You know my secret and I cannot trust you to keep it or to stop from slashing my throat in my sleep. I am not afraid to kill you!"

"Nor I you…"

"Then what are we waiting for…"

Unsheathing her two swords, Lia held one in line with her shoulder, the other in line with her waist. Giving him one final, determined look, she prepared herself to decapitate him where he stood.

Murtagh closed off all his emotions and focused on the only thing that mattered. The only thing he was good at doing. Staying alive. He made himself forget all the times that he had almost came close to even liking her.

From this moment forth, she was an obstacle that needed to be removed. He could not allow any weakness to affect his performance in battle. No. He would gain no joy from killing her. He would make it fast. It depended on her, how brutal it would be.

Lia shifted her weight on the ball of her foot to spin into an attack, when both Tornac and Snowfire began to snort and rear up on their hind legs. Uneasily, both fighters lowered their blades and began to assess their surroundings. There was nothing…but the horses had sensed something that had made them scared and they were not fools to ignore it.

As if appearing from no where, they heard a loud roar, followed by two more and one that was louder than the rest. The horses nearly bolted at the sound, but Lia and Murtagh ran to them and held them fast by their reigns. Their swords were already re-sheathed as this new danger overrode their need to slay each other there and then.

From a nearby-concealed cave in the side of the mountain, four Kull appeared, with battle-lust in their eyes and a need for fresh blood. The horses' hooves began to back away from the predators. Their riders leapt into their saddles, but did not want them to move just yet. Lia shot Murtagh a serious look.

"This is not over…you and I…we have business to finish"

"That we do…but would you allow an Kull to take away the pleasure of killing me?"

"Not in a million years…ride!"

The horses would not wait another second for their masters to instruct them to run. They heaved their powerful legs into action and headed away from the lake. But they were soon steered back to gallop alongside the side of the mountain and they could hear the desperate incomprendible chatter atop of them and smell these fell beasts on the air.

Lia turned in her saddle and swore loudly as she saw that the Kull were gaining on them. Their long and powerful strides, enough to gain pace on trained battle steeds.

Fear and desperation gripped her and she began to assess their surroundings, looking for anything that would give them an advantage or an escape route. Unable to contact Saphira, they were on their own. This was their battle, in more than one way. It was Murtagh who solved their problem, by pointing up at the mountains and shouting over the wind.

"We need to reach higher ground!…they will catch up with us sooner or later…if we can get to one of those caves, we can make a stand and have a chance…what say you?"

"Where do you suggest?"

"There!…"

He yelled, pointing to a ledge a small way up the mountain, but high enough to provide a threatening drop. The ledge appeared to fall back into the mouth of a large cave. Seeing no other option, Lia agreed.

"Let us make haste…we can hold the horses in the cave and wait for these hideous beats on the ledge"

Urging the horses to move as fast as they could, with little effort, they brought them to base of the mountain. Leaping gracelessly from their saddles, they grabbed the reigns and pulled the reluctant beats along a treacherously steep and slippery path up to the ledge.

After a few minor scrapes, stumbles and some grunted protests, they reached the cave and slapped the horses' behinds, causing them to rush inside the safety of the darkness.

Satisfied that the horses were at least out of danger for now, Murtagh and Lia hurried back onto the ledge and peered down. The Kull were already scrambling at speed towards them, two with short swords and two with spears. They would not give up and they would never stop.

Drawing their swords, they let their adrenaline give them the courage, energy and insanity to even attempt to slay four grown Kull. Laughing maniacally, Lia yelled down to their foes, but directed her words to Murtagh.

"Watch carefully Murtagh, for I am imagining that every last one of these creatures is you and what they suffer, you will suffer shortly!"

"Likewise my Lady… this is only a warm up exercise!"

"I look forward to the real thing!"

And the first Kull appeared and the pre-fight banter was complete. Mercilessly, they attacked. The showed no remorse no pity for their slaughter, for they knew that they would receive none in return. The first brute was armed with a short sword and as soon as his full body was visible, Murtagh and Lia attacked.

With a ferocious yell, Murtagh leapt and thrust his sword at the Kull's chest. Lia had spun, whilst dropping to a crouch and sliced its leg twice. The first cut slicing deep, the second, severing a tendon and causing blood to squirt out in large quantities.

Taken by surprise, the Kull died almost instantly. It fell backwards and knocked into the next one in line. The path was too treacherous to be travelled in any more than single file.

Delighted with his kill, Murtagh lowered his sword and let his victory energise him for his next assault. Glancing at Lia, he could see that she was as thirsty for the kill as he was. His moment was short lived, as the same Kull that they had just slain was thrown directly at him and he was knocked off his feet.

Lia was confronted with the next abomination, with a spear in its hand. It thrust it towards her and she dodged the attack and stabbed out with one of her swords. From her other side, another with a spear appeared and plunged its jagged edge towards her.

Rolling out of its reach, she cursed as when she stood, she found herself standing between the two of them. Growling at her maliciously, they drew back their arms to spear her. She did the only thing that she could think of. Dropping her body flat against the floor, she heard a meaty thud, followed by a short gasp and a loud roar of anguish.

She didn't need to look up to know that one had speared the other and saved her the effort of killing the both of them. The emotion in the roar told her that it had killed someone dear to it, a blood brother or possibly even a mate. No matter, it would soon join its companion in the flames of hell.

Rolling back to her feet, she saw that Murtagh was now embarking in a long battle with a fellow sword wielder. He seemed to be relying on his agility and short stabs to tire the animal and wear it down.

She would worry about her own Kull for the moment, as he bellowed a long and angry note before rushing at her with all his might. The spear was no longer in its hand; still embedded its dead companion.

Lia held her position until the last minute, where she side stepped him and sunk both her swords into his back. The agonising scream that left its lips was enough to deafen her.

He teetered towards the edge of the ledge and she walked forward and dragged her bloodied swords from his flesh. With both her hands occupied, she could not prevent what happened next.

The mortally wounded Kull stood, swaying dangerously over the edge and would not allow himself to die alone. In his last few moments, he snapped out a hand, grabbed the sleeve of this female in an iron grip and fell over the side. Dropping her swords instinctively, Lia screamed as she was dragged over the edge and followed the Kull to his messy end.

Murtagh was engrossed in playing with his enemy. The Kull was a good swordsman, but he was beginning to tire. Blood was pouring from the many cuts that Murtagh had inflicted upon him.

Sensing that there was not much more of a fight left in him, Murtagh found an opening, leapt into the air and slashed his sword across the animal's throat. Blood poured from the gash. A series of unattractive gurgling noises were produced, the sword was dropped and then creature hit the ground with a heavy thud, dead.

Then he heard the scream. There was no mistaking it. It was human and it was female. Staring at the ground, he saw three dead Kull and no Lia.

Half-hoping and half dreading what he might see, he peered over the ledge and felt his stomach lurch as he saw what little was left of the final Kull, splattered against the sharp rocks below. Lia was no where to be seen.

He took a few steps away, before he heard a small cry and a sharp intake of breath. Slowly returning the edge, he crouched down and saw that five fingers were holding onto the very edge for dear life and attached them, was a petrified Lia.

By some miracle, the sleeve of her tunic had torn in the brute's grasp, but not before she had dropped over the side. Grasping out for something, anything, her hands managed to scramble on the edge of the rock.

For a minute, she had hung there- but already weakened from the fight, her left hand had slipped and now, her strength was fading and she could feel her fingers crying to let go.

Hanging there, awaiting death, she wondered why she wasted her last efforts in life. To fall would be a swift death. She would probably break her neck and die instantly. To drag her self back up, would mean that she had to face Murtagh and in her current state, it shamed her to admit that she would lose. Her sudden feeling of defeat caused her throat to close, trying to suppress a cry of despair.

A shadow fell over her and she looked up. There he was. The last face she would ever see: the face of the son of pure evil. She knew at that moment that this was it. The end. He would prize her fingers one by one and watch her fall to her doom.

In a way, she welcomed it. She would rather die than see the descendent of a murderer live to cause more sorrow to the land. She would rather die than give him the satisfaction of killing her.

Giving him one last hateful stare, she closed her eyes and began to count in the back of her mind. On the count of three, she would let go. He would not be the one to end her life. Her life was the one thing left, over which she held complete control. Her count begun…one…two…

He avoided staring at her face. Why should he have one last look upon her? It did not matter. She had to die. What was one last look worth? He focused all his attention to her strong and slender fingers. They were almost white to the bone.

How long she had been hanging, he would never know. But her time was near. Her hand was trembling. He could do it right now. End it. Or he could walk away…say it was a terrible accident. That could work in his favour too. One of her fingers appeared to lift. He realised that she didn't want to wait. She was working herself up to letting go.

From no where, he felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. A feeling he had felt maybe only once or twice in his life. Panic. But why? She was doing him a favour. He should let her. But the feeling would not leave him – it only grew stronger.

He didn't want her to die. He argued with himself, pleading with himself to see reason; that she had to die. It was the only way. He was almost convinced, when he saw her second finger release its hold. Acting against his nature, he didn't wait a further second. He dropped to his front and reached down to desperately grab her arm.

Three…

Letting go, Lia welcomed the blissful drop that she would experience before her form was dashed to pieces. Her eyes flew open as she felt a hand grab her arm. In utter disbelief, she stared up into Murtagh's contorted face.

His strong arm held her in position, but his muscled were knotting from the effort and his face was turning redder and redder. Spittle flew from his lips as he spoke between ragged breaths.

"Climb…I won't let go"

Hesitantly, she began to try and find foot holds with her feet and swung her other arm to grab hold of his. With a joint effort, he managed to help pull her over the edge.

She lay there on the ledge and gasped. Astonished by the ordeal that she had just endured and Murtagh's actions, her world was turned upside down. Why? Why had he saved her? All her life, she had believed that one of his bloodline deserved to die. He knew her intentions towards him, so why?

After pulling her back to safety, he sprang to his feet and began to rub the feeling back into his arm. He considered what he had just done and the consequences he would have to endure.

Remembering her words and the determination on her face, he knew that there would be no easy way out. He had brought this on himself. Why? It was unheard of! He really had no idea. But for some reason still unknown to him, he did not regret it.

In fact, throughout his whole life, this was the first time he had ever acted in the best interest of another.

For a moment, he almost felt human. Maybe this was what normal people felt? He did not enjoy it. But he found some sense of…release…from himself. Maybe he was not destined to be anything at all?

Maybe this was his destiny, right here on this ledge, with this woman. Maybe this was his end. He had fought off his enemies and cheated his own death so many times. It would be a rather ironic and somewhat fitting end that he would die here. Maybe she was right. Maybe he really was better off dead. With a new resolve, he picked her swords off the ground and approached her.

Seeing him with her own two weapons in his hands, she saw the truth behind his actions. He had wanted to finish her himself. To mutilate her as his father had done to many. She would not let him strike her like a dog. He would kill her standing.

In her last moments, she wanted her pride. Easing herself to her feet, she breathed in deeply and let her face relax. A cry would not tear through her. Scream she would not. Nor would she show any sign of fear or hate. Nothing. He would see nothing, for that was all he deserved.

Stopping before her, Murtagh dropped one of her swords by his feet, but offered the other to her, hilt first. His expression was sad, his eyes almost pleading.

Lia's face betrayed none of her emotions, but at the offer of her own sword, her brow creased into a frown. She accepted his offer, took the sword and ran her eyes over it, as if she hadn't the first idea how to wield the tool.

Once the sword was out of his grasp, he dropped to his knees and bent his head. His hair hung over his eyes and obscured his face. The bare skin of his neck was exposed and the sun glinted off her blade, encouraging her to bathe it in his blood.

He spoke to her in such a tone, that she could not believe she had travelled with the same young man for the past two days. He was sincere, his tone resolute.

"I cannot do it…I cannot bring myself to kill you…I tried…but I cannot…it is my choice…but here I am…I kneel before you and tell you to do what you must…for how can so many people be wrong?…I am the son of Morzan…"

He waited for the cold touch of steel against his skin and then nothing, as it would pass through his neck and put a swift end to his wretched life.

The feeling never came. He heard the clang of metal, as he saw the sword drop from her hands to the floor. Looking up into her face and deep into her eyes, he saw her confusion and something that he did not expect to see; shame.

She heard his words and found them hard to accept. For so long, she had dreamed of killing Morzan and this opportunity presented her with a chance to gain some form of retribution. But now, it seemed a pointless execution.

As if the recent events had not occurred, her image of a ruthless murderer melted away and once more, she was left with Murtagh. Murtagh, who she argued with about the most ridiculous of things. Murtagh, with whom she had almost formed a bond with in the most obscure of circumstances. Murtagh. Not that son of Morzan.

All her pent up emotions attacked her in a spasm, sending her entire body to shake. She involuntarily dropped her sword and gazed down into his depressed eyes, as he looked up to her face.

Those eyes. They were no longer the eyes of her nightmare. They were the eyes of her saviour. She felt hot tears prickle her eyes and she let them fall. She had nearly died and thought that she was going to be killed. She no longer cared if he saw a weakness in her behaviour. Especially as he was kneeled before her, begging for his escape from this life.

"You chose to save my life…the son of Morzan you may be…but you do not make the same choices…I owe you a debt"

Unable to believe what he had heard, his mouth opened and closed and opened again. Words were lost. Never had anyone known his identity and not wanted him dead. Never had he been owed a debt due to actions he had performed that weren't to save his own skin. He opened his mouth to say something…to thank her…but then realised that words were not enough.

As he had granted her right to live, she had returned the gesture. Wordlessly, he stood and reached out a hand. She grasped hold of his wrist, and in turn, he grasped hold of hers. A warrior grasp. A sign of respect.

The trail of her tears cut a clean path down her dirty cheeks. His previous attitude would have caused him to comment on her sign of feminine emotion, but on this occasion he felt no such urge. All he could see was the courage it had taken her to say her words and make her choice.

For the first time, he saw her with no faults. He saw her as she was and he respected her more than any other person he had ever known in his life.

Lia was the first to release her grip. When his hand fell away, everything felt surreal. They were here. Standing together, as if nothing had happened between them. But something had and she felt that it would change their relationship forever.

Uncertain of how to act, she glanced past him and into cave. Changing the subject, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, she spoke in her usual obedient tone.

"We should see to the horses…we have lost time and we have progress to make…"

She pushed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and whistled through her teeth. The sound of hooves nervously clip clopping towards them could be heard, and Snowfire and Tornac emerged from the darkness, approaching them tentatively.

Murtagh slowly approached Tornac, stroking the horse's face and whispering kind words into his ear. Snowfire obediently appeared by Lia's side and affectionately bumped her with his nose. She laughed, patted his flank and took hold of his bridle.

"We shall descend first…we'll wait for you at the bottom"

"Tread carefully…"

Hearing the genuine warning in his voice, she turned and nodded, before easing Snowfire ahead of her to find his own footing, and followed behind.

It did not take as long as either of them expected and both riders and horses returned to the base of the mountain with minimal injury, apart from those gained in their struggle on ledge.

They did not waste time on small talk, despite the build up of questions in their minds. Time was still a luxury that they did not have and somewhere ahead of them, a Rider and his dragon awaited them. They rode, but with a new sense of purpose and being and both headed towards a new destiny.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Eragon was sat in his room and he was at peace. He savoured the uncomfortable and scratchy feeling of his blanket, which covered his bed. Sunlight poured through his window, revealing dust particles floating in the air and thick layers covering the furniture and the floor.

It was never much, but it was his and how he missed it. He heard a knock at the door and grinned, knowing it would be Roran. It was. His handsome face and broad shoulders poked around the side of the door and he smiled, excitedly.

"Why are you still sat in here? Dinner is ready and Garrow is waiting!"

The thought of a home cooked meal was almost as heart-warming as a second chance to see his uncle. It was a good dream. Oh yes, by now, he knew it was a dream. But for some reason despite this realisation, he had not stirred.

He found it odd, but he was grateful. For never was he more relaxed than in these rare sleeps, where everything was as it should have remained- had he not followed his destiny.

Certain that he wasn't going to wake, he climbed off his bed and headed towards the door, which Roran had left open.

Stepping into the hallway, Roran beckoned him to follow and he did. But walking past the door next to his own, he paused. Something compelled him to reach for the handle. He turned it and let the door creak open, slowly and ominously.

Standing in the doorway, he stared into what should have been Roran's room- only it wasn't. It was the inside of some sort of dungeon. And there, strapped down to a bed in the centre of this cold, dank and depressing place was the girl.

Roran appeared by his side and glanced inside his room. He arched his eyebrows in surprise and coughed nervously, before daring to ask a question.

"Eragon… what happened to my room?"

Glancing at his cousin, Eragon smirked and wondered whether there was anything remotely sain in explaining a dream character to another dream character. When Roran's expression remained quizzical, he decided that some form of explanation would not go amiss.

"I don't know"

"Who is she?"

"She's a girl…she's in trouble"

"Do you know her?"

"No… and yes…I have seen her before"

"What is wrong with her?"

"I am yet to find out"

"She doesn't look very well…"

As they stared at her helpless form, a series of black tendrils began to creep from the side of her neck, and climb across her face. Roran cringed, took hold of Eragon's sleeve and tugged at it encouragingly.

"Well don't just stand there…go and see what's wrong with her!"

Cautiously, Eragon took a step inside the room. It was like walking through a sheet of ice. All the warmth and comfort of his home had melted away. He now stood in an atmosphere that chilled him to the bone.

He could see his breath hanging in the air and he could feel his fingers and toes begin to sting from the cold. He stared back at the doorway to see Roran waiting for him to move.

It was like looking through a window into a different world. Despite only being a footstep away, Roran's voice sounded as it were travelling over a million miles. His lips moved, but he may as well have been shouting from the other side of the farm for all the difference it made. He caught the words that were said.

"If she is alright, help her leave! If Katrina hears talk of some strange girl in my room, there will be hell to pay!"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he turned away from his cousin and faced the seriousness of what lay before him. For this place, despite being within a dream, was real.

This was the moment that he had been both dreading and yet, waiting for in anticipation. He could see her again. This girl. This beautiful girl. But how it pained him that he could never seem to help her.

Maybe this was his chance? The black tendrils on her face seemed to grow thicker and she began to toss and turn. She was asleep. Maybe if he woke her, he could ask her who she was, where she was and who was doing this to her?!

He edged to the side of her bed and surveyed her poor, tortured body. Before reaching a hand down to touch her arm…

He had drifted into a deep sleep. Saphira could already feel his body starting to repair itself. One of the blessings of a Dragon Rider: faster healing than the average human.

And yet, regardless of his slow, but sure road to recovery, Saphira still felt guilt for his wound clutching at her heart. Not wanting her negative thoughts to affect him in any way, she tried to empty her mind of all thought and enjoy her lazy flight.

Her concerns were all but forgotten, when a wave of terror hit her like a score of arrows. Without hesitating, she reached for Eragon, only to find that he was still deep in slumber. This feeling was not his.

In the few moments where she considered all the possibilities, the emotions attacked her again- only this time; there was a sense of impending doom. One thought filled her mind, as she realised whose emotions she was sharing. It was Lia. Lia was in danger.

Without a second thought to her Rider's comfort or condition, Saphira jerked her wings and turned her flight path around. Beating her wings with ferocious speed, she hurtled back towards the lake.

She didn't know how or why, but Lia had called her and she could not abandon her. Eragon would survive the flight. Lia may not survive the minute. Desperately, she scoured the land below for signs of either of their companions on the ground.

His finger was about to touch her arm, when he was ripped backwards out of his dream and back into his body, by a horrendous lurching feeling in his stomach.

He began to jerk back and forth in the saddle, as Saphira's wings beat rapidly and hard. Her muscles writhed beneath him. The eruption of pain that attacked him made fresh bile rise to his throat and he fought the urge to vomit all over himself and his dragon.

_Saphira?! What's wrong?!_

She did not reply. She chose not to. All he could feel was her pure determination. More bile rose into his mouth and he spat it out over her side.

_Saphira! Speak with me! Why are you doing this?!_

_She's in danger!_

_Who?!_

_Lia!_

Confused by her answer, he wanted to question her further, but the opportunity passed, as with a sudden burst of speed, he could only use his energy to keep himself from throwing up or fainting from the agony.

He closed his eyes and prayed that the moment wound pass. He feared it would get worse before it got better. It was a correct assumption. Saphira began to drop rapidly. The small and sudden fall of a few feet in the air was all that it took. He vomited violently and then fell unconscious.

Saphira felt him slip away just as she spotted two figures in the distance. Hoping against hope that she wasn't too late and that Eragon would last the ride, she dove towards them.

Murtagh and Lia were riding at a fast pace, when Murtagh noticed a distinctive black figure in the sky. Tugging on his reigns, he slowed Tornac to a stop. Lia stopped by his side and followed his concerned stare.

"Did Saphira contact you?"

"No…"

"She seems to be flying fast.. too fast.."

"Something is wrong…"

"She's approaching too quickly.. she's going to crash!"

He wasn't joking. For every second that passed, Saphira grew closer and closer and appeared to be hurtling at a great speed towards them. There would be no careful landing. If she were not careful, she would roll right into them.

As is they were aware of what was about to happen, both Snowfire and Tornac began to snort and scrape their hooves on the ground.

Murtagh gave Tornac a wary look before glancing at Lia and muttering.

"Not again!…"

"I'd hold on tight if I were you…I think we are safer in the saddle than on the ground"

"Get ready…"

Bracing themselves, they awaited the inevitable. Saphira hit the ground more gently than they had expected, but she still skidded across the dirt. Only her large claws digging into the ground helped her stop a few metres before them.

The horses reared up and whinnied in fear, but their riders held their balance and with their skill and experience, remained seated in their saddles as opposed to being thrown to the floor.

Upon this sudden and even more painful impact, Eragon was jostled from his unconsciousness and through tear filled eyes, saw Murtagh and Lia- both looking confused and both looking very much alive.

_Are you hurt?! What happened?! I thought you were close to death?!_

The words rang in Lia's mind and her jaw dropped in surprise. Seeing the look on her face, Murtagh grew impatient.

"Well?! What is she saying?"

"She thought I was hurt and she wants to know what happened…"

Murtagh froze. For a moment, a flash of his old self took over and the fear of his identity being discovered made his fingers itch for his sword. But he forced himself to think of the moment that they had shared on the ledge and took a deep breath. He would trust her. He had to.

As if sensing his thoughts, Lia glanced over to him, before speaking aloud, in order for her answer to be heard by all.

"We were attacked by a group of Kull…but it was nothing that we couldn't handle"

A smile threatened to break the serious expression on her face. Murtagh showed no such restraint and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Not only had she not betrayed his secret, but she had also acknowledged their astounding skills in battle. He could not resist adding to their praise in a matter-of-factly way.

"Four of them to be precise…but we killed them all and remain unscathed"

"We're still pretty, if that's what you mean?"

Murtagh laughed at and reached out a fist for her, which she bumped with one of her own.

Saphira noted their casual manner and their altered behaviour and found it all too much to take. With a deafening roar, she cried out and thrashed her head from side to side, before turning to face Eragon.

Despite his pain, he was momentarily distracted by the surreal sight of Murtagh and Lia conversing in what could almost pass as a friendly manner. His thought was broken as Saphira roared and filled his mind with panic, anger and confusion. He tried to calm her.

_Saphira…what is wrong? You said Lia was in danger, but she looks fine and well?!_

_Did you not hear what they said?! They were attacked!_

_Yes I heard! I also heard that they looked after themselves and saved their own skin._

_They were attacked and we were no where near! They were attacked and they did not flee! They chose to fight four Kull! I am surrounded by fools!_

_They told us that they were great fighters. I am impressed with their triumph. They were being brave._

_They were being stupid! And we left them! We should have been there! They should not have had to face them alone!_

_But they did and they survived and all is well!_

_No! All is not well! I can't do this Eragon! I can't worry about you and them at the same time! I can't protect you all!_

_No body expects you to!_

_But I do! They take risks travelling with us! They offer us help! Some form of safety to give them in turn is all I have to offer on our behalf, but I wish to give it! I cannot leave them to be in danger_ _and I cannot cause you more injury by flying hurriedly every time I think they are in trouble!_

_Saphira…how did you know she was in danger?_

_I don't know! But I know this: we are turning around right now!_

_What?!?_

_We are heading back to the forest this instant!_

_You can't be serious?! We need to get to Gil' Ead!_

_You need to heal! We all need to come to an arrangement! The girl has waited for weeks and weeks! She can wait a few weeks more!_

_But the girl! She needs help! I need to reach her!_

_No. You are not ready._

_But I saw her and…_

_I do not care! You are my Rider and you are in no condition to go gallivanting on some heroic crusade!_

Eragon wanted to argue and protest. But he knew that she was right. He could barely breathe without pain, let alone walk. He sulked and pulled a face. Turning her mind to Lia, she stated the new plan.

_We are going back to the forest…we will circle above…if there is any trouble, we will be here_

Without waiting for any questions, she leapt into the air and headed up to the sky. Lia stared upwards with a baffled expression on her face. Murtagh cleared his throat noisily and when she didn't answer, he rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to tell me what she said or are you going to make me guess?"

She turned to face him and sighed, before turning Snowfire around.

"We are going back to the forest"

"What?! Why?!"

Laughing nervously, she gestured her head to the sky mockingly.

"I didn't ask! Unless of course you feel like questioning the orders of an angry dragon?"

Her statement didn't even deserve to be commented on. With an impatient grunt, but a forced smile, he swung Tornac to be alongside Snowfire and with humourless nods, they started their journey back to where they awoke the same morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 

It was a short ride back to the forest. Three hours to be precise. The urge to hurry as fast as possible was increased by Saphira's presence looming above them at all times and the knowledge that Eragon needed to return to the stable comfort of the ground.

By the time they had found the remains of their morning camp, evening was approaching, the sun was setting and everyone was ready for food and rest.

Saphira gracefully landed beside them, finding her way through a clearing in the trees. Before they did anything else Murtagh and Lia went to help Eragon out of the saddle and make him more comfortable. Saphira lowered herself and as her belly touched the cool earth, she was surprised at how relieved she felt to be back on the ground.

Her concern and adrenaline had kept her in the air, but now tiredness caused her huge eyelids to droop. She shook her head to stay awake and watched as her Rider was gently propped up against the most stable and safe place that they could find; her side.

Eragon said nothing as they lifted him and arranged him to be positioned to minimise his discomfort. But when they stepped away and stared, as if waiting for some sign of approval, he managed a small dip of his head, which seemed to suffice as a means of thanks.

Murtagh began to tend to the horses. He removed their saddles and found some water to quench their thirst. Lia headed for Snowfire's saddle bag and assessed their supplies. They were very low. Only a small chunk of bread remained and very little cheese. As was only fair, she divided what was left into two portions. One for Murtagh. The other for Eragon. She would fend for herself.

Taking Murtagh's meal, she placed it on top of his pack and made him aware of it with a tap on his shoulder and pointing to where his food awaited him. He mumbled a small thanks and continued to stroke his horse.

The tension in the air was unmistakable, although Lia gained a small sense of satisfaction knowing that for the first time, his tension was not directed at her.

Walking towards Eragon, she knelt before him and placed his food beside him. Words began to form in her mouth to offer him some assistance, but the look in his eyes told her that she should not. He wanted to hang onto his dignity and she would not be the one to strip him of it.

He bit down on his lip as he moved his hand to reach for the bread. Courteously, she stood up, averted her eyes and walked around to face Saphira. The face she was confronted with was firmly set, but not unfriendly. Once again, she felt in awe of this beautiful and intelligent creature.

"I am going to go and find some herbs to ease his pain and aid his recovery. Is there anything you require?"

No…but I thank you for your kindness…he needs all the help he can receive…

"I will return shortly…"

Swiftly removing a blade from a clasp by her boot, she gave her companions a small wave, before disappearing into the nearby undergrowth. Murtagh remained sat at a distance, eating his meal slowly, quietly and kept himself to himself. Saphira acknowledged him with a sad glance, before watching Eragon slowly chewing on his food.

_How do you feel little one?_

_Awful…but it is good to be still and it is good to eat_

_We can't go on like this…_

_Like what?_

_Look at him…_

Eragon's eyes flickered upwards briefly to see Murtagh still eating, with his head down and his back to them. A part of him was angered by the sight. He was due an apology at the least and instead, he was being ignored. Saphira felt his thoughts and awoke him to the harsh reality of the situation.

_You will have to make the first move Eragon…_

_Me? Why me?_

_Because you are a Rider and you are above such things as petty quarrels!_

_I have broken ribs because of him?! _

_And he has a broken conscience! Your wounds will heal. His may never heal unless you forgive him._

Leaning his head back against her, he stared up at the sky and noticed how quickly darkness had begun to fall. Soon they would need a fire, but not just yet. He rolled his head forward and fixed Murtagh with a grudging stare.

_Well what does it matter at this moment? It's not as if I can talk to him. It shall have to wait._

_There is a way…_

_Really? Are you going to tell me you can talk to him as well?_

_No. But I can talk to Lia and she can relay your message._

_The idea is ridiculous! I will look a fool!_

_Well you could always talk to her yourself._

_I…I…I don't know if I want to…_

_Want has nothing to do with anything. We need to settle this. There should be no bad air between us. Not now. We need to make amends. All of us._

_Do you leave me any choice?_

Of course. You can tell me what you wish to tell him. You could contact her directly or I could merely come up with suitable words and pretend that you said them.

Eragon gasped, startled and gave her a warning glare, to which she responded with a challenging sparkle in her eyes and a swish of her tail.

_You wouldn't dare!_

_I will do whatever I think is in your best interest._

Fine! You call her back!…and I will..oh for pity's sake.. I will speak with her myself…

He felt Saphira's triumph swell inside him, but also her pride towards his decision, which, in turn, quelled his discomfort. But it was still there and waiting to take hold of him.

Murtagh deliberately sat facing away from them. He was not ready for a confrontation. He was not ready to make an apology. He wasn't sure what he was ready for. But he could feel their eyes burrowing into him. And despite the silence, he was certain that they were speaking about him.

It was almost as if he could feel the negativity of their thoughts hanging above his head, like a black cloud. Unwilling to provide them with any satisfaction, he remained where he was. Feeling loneliness creep up on him, his thoughts turned to Lia, before he began to wonder why.

Lia had been busily picking various leaves and berries, when Saphira contacted her. By now, she was familiar enough with the presence that when she sensed her arrival, her guard fell down; welcoming her into her mind.

_Lia.. are you ready?_

_Yes. I was about to head back._

_Good. Come to me when you are ready._

_I am on my way_

Grabbing a handful of leaves from a nearby bush, Lia briskly headed back to the camp. As she walked past Murtagh he lifted his head and gave her an unmistakable smile. It took her a moment or two to recover from the sight before her mouth curved into a polite grin.

He acted almost as if he was pleased to see her.

Even now, after their shared moment, she still found it difficult to grasp the concept that they could possibly ever get along. There was a new-found respect between them - unspoken, but there. But could it possibly progress any further? It hurt her brain to think about it. Maybe tonight she would mull over the events of the day. It was already getting dark. First she would talk with Saphira, then she would eat and finally, she would light the fire and think.

Taking off her cloak, she folded it neatly and on it, placed the assorted herbs, leaves and berries. Approaching Saphia, she prepared herself to deal with whatever reason it was that she was summoned.

Watching Lia approach caused Eragon's insides to squirm in discomfort. He didn't want to do this at all, but he could sense Saphira willing him to do the right thing. Disappointing himself was something that he could live with. But letting Saphira down. Feeling her opinion of him falter. It was too terrible a thought.

With a surge of determination, he carefully reached out for Lia. Seeing her staring at Saphira expectantly, he knew that his contact would take her by surprise. If he approached her softly. She may engage with him instead of blocking him out before he had a chance. With the skill of a hunter approaching a deer, his mind stealthily moved towards her.

When Saphira simply gazed back at her blankly, Lia felt a small spark of irritation. She was terribly hungry and tired, but she had put her needs on hold to do whatever bidding was required of her. And here she stood, waiting and waiting and…

She felt it from a short distance away. A mind… unthreatening, but waiting for her. This was a stranger.. and yet…there was something in this presence that felt…

Eragon knew that she had acknowledged him when her eyes snapped onto his, with the look of someone who had just been slapped. There was no more need for patience. Her mind was open. He entered and let her become accustomed to his presence, before he spoke.

_Hello Lia_

_Eragon…_

I am sorry to contact you in this way, but there is something that I have to say and I do not have the strength to say that words aloud…will you help me?

_But of course…_

_Good…you have my thanks…now…call Murtagh…_

Raising a brow at his request, she began to wonder if this was a situation that necessarily required her involvement. But she had already committed herself to the task and there was no turning back. She called Murtagh's name and waited for his response.

His name was called and he gritted his teeth. His limbs jarred, not wanting him to move. Forcing himself to his feet, he urged himself to walk over to where they three of them awaited him. Avoiding eye contact, he focused his attention to the dirt on the forest floor.

Lia turned to face Eragon and shrugged a single shoulder.

_He is here…now what?_

Eragon's eyes moved from Lia to Murtagh, before his gaze dropped.

Tell him.. tell him I apologise.. tell him that I know it was an accident… tell him that I did not mean the words I said… tell him I do not want a grudge between us.

The words did not come easily at first, but once he started, they tumbled out, one after an another and Lia felt his sincerity and was relieved that at least one of these two men had the courage to do the right thing.

Of course she suspected that Saphira was behind his actions, but he chose to follow her advice and he was a better Rider in her eyes for the choice that he had made. Reaching out, she prodded Murtagh in his side with a sharp finger, causing him to look up and scowl.

"I have a message for you Murtagh"

"What does Saphira have to say to me…"

"Not Saphira.. Eragon…"

He let out a mirthless laugh before noticing that Eragon was in fact staring at him with a deadly serious expression on his face. He returned the look and waited to hear whatever it was that was meant for his ears.

Lia noted the look on his face and something inside her made her lay a hand on his shoulder. It was done on instinct. At her unfamiliar touch, he froze, but she let her words calm him.

"Murtagh…Eragon wants me to pass to you his apology.. he knows that what happened was an accident. He did not mean the words that he said to you. He wants peace between the two of you"

Murtagh's shoulders relaxed and she gave him a single pat on the back, before her hand returned to her side. She awaiting his response, hoping that it would put an end to the trauma of this day.

The words were like a great weight being lifted from him. The Rider did not hate him after all! There was hope for the three of them yet. He lifted his eyes to meet Eragon's and spoke his words with all the feeling that he could muster.

"I appreciate your words Rider, more than you could ever know. But I also owe you an apology. I over reacted and my actions had consequences. In return for your forgiveness, you have my word that I shall not act in such a rash manner again"

Eragon inclined his head in acceptance and both Lia and Saphira inwardly rejoiced.

And I owe you an apology Lia… 

Lia glanced at Saphira, taken by surprise.

_You owe me no such thing_

_I treated you discourteously when you were trying to help Eragon_

You were protecting him. I never took your actions to heart 

_It is well that you carry such understanding, for the loss of your company would have saddened me…although I know not why…_

We share something strange…you and I..

That we do. But I do not feel it is bad.

_No… not bad…just… misplaced…_

With a half smile, she broke the link with Saphira and turned to Murtagh.

"We need firewood. It's getting too dark and I need to boil these herbs"

"I'll get the wood. You arrange your herbs"

Murtagh hurried into the ever growing darkness, whilst Lia rummaged through their packs until she found a pot and filled it with water. With great precision, she plucked a certain number of leaves from each of the herbs she had gathered and placed them in a bowl. Crushing them between her fingers, a thick and sweet aroma arose and she savoured the scent.

Hearing the snapping of small twigs, she knew that Murtagh had returned with the means to make a fire. He dropped the wood by her feet and stepped away. Reaching into his pocket, he produced a flint and tinder and offered them to her.

"Light your fire…"

Gratefully, she accepted his offer and carried out her task. Sensing that this was almost a private affair, Murtagh seated himself by Eragon and watched, as with the same concentration as the previous night, Lia lit her fire.

When the fire was burning sufficiently, she set her pot above it to boil. After a few minutes, she added the crushed herbs to the water and their pleasant small wafted across to where the others were sat. Somehow, the vapours alone seemed to relax them and lull them into sleepiness.

As Lia watched the water boil, she consumed a handful of berries and then carefully removed the pot and poured some of the water into a bowl. Adding some cold water to the mix, she carried it to Eragon and placed it in his hands. He eyed it suspiciously before raising a brow, causing Lia to smirk.

"Drink this. It'll help you relax. These herbs have great healing properties. They will aid your fast recovery. Drink. It tastes as good as it smells. I assure you".

He doubted it, but he knew that he should not shun her help. He took a sip and the warm liquid heated his insides as it travelled to his stomach. It tasted delicious. It was sweet and bizarre. Already he could feel tiredness consume him. Lia careful removed the bowl from his hands and smiled down at him.

"Sleep Rider. All will be well…"

"..thank you…"

The words were barely a whisper and it hurt him to physically say them, but he felt the need. She had helped him so many times in the past two days. It was owed to her. She smiled tiredly, gave Saphira a nod and then left to sit by the fire. Murtagh stayed put; watching her and looking deep in thought.

I am proud of you little one. You have acted wisely I never would have acted in this way withought your counsel 

_Even so, all is well.. for now…_

_For now…_

Feeling her hesitate, he guessed that he was not going to like hearing whatever she said next.

_How did it feel touching minds with Lia?_

_It felt…almost natural…how does it feel for you?_

_The same…she has a quality of a sort…that make me wonder…_

_Wonder what?_

It is not important…but I do have a request to make…one that I cannot carry out without your approval…

_Go on…_

_For some reason, I appear to share a connection with her. Perhaps if I was allowed to bond with her further, the link would grow stronger and she may be able to contact us when we fly ahead of them…_

Eragon fell silent as her words weighted heavily in his heart. What she was suggesting almost implied that she wished to be shared. That she did not solely wish to belong to him and it hurt his pride. It felt like cold steel sliding between his ribs. After all that he had done, was he no longer good enough for her?

_Why?…why would you pursue this bond?…am I no longer good enough?_

Her hurt at his words stung him, but there was another feeling mingled with her sorrow and that was her shame.

_You are my Rider Eragon. I chose you and I will never regret that choice as long as we live. I love you with all my heart. You are my everything. But I wonder…I just wonder that had circumstances been different…_

_Would you have hatched for Lia?_

The silence that followed his completion of her sentence confirmed that his assumption was correct. He reached out a hand to touch her side. Turning her large head, she brushed her snout against his palm and gazed at him through eyes, which showed nothing but love for him.

_What would have been matters not. But you must admit that her abilities are extraordinary. I suspect that if any eggs had remained, one surely would have hatched for her._

_You do not regret your choice?_

_Never! And you would be stupid to suspect otherwise! You are my farm boy Eragon and I would have no other. Look how much you have grown throughout our journey together? Not a day passes that my love for you does not grow stronger_

_Be careful Saphira! I'm in danger of wasting valuable energy on blushing!_

_Oh be quiet and get some sleep!_

She growled affectionately and made as if to nip his hand.

_You don't need to tell me twice._

_And you will consider my request?_

_I will consider it_

_Sweet dreams my love_

_And you…_

Turning his face to rest against her warm, smooth belly, he closed his eyes and felt himself return to his home. Once Saphira was sure that he was asleep, she rested her lids and joined him in his slumber.

Lia sat cross-legged by the fire and as always, stared into the flames and let her memories remind her of who she was. But her thoughts were tangled. Recent events had changed things. Her feelings were altered. Emotions that she had deemed a thing of the past were surfacing once more and she did not know what to make of them. What was she feeling? Did she even know who she was anymore?

Murtagh moved to sit on the opposite side of the fire, deciding that he would join her. He knew that she would not talk, but it mattered not. Just sitting here by the warmth of the fire was pleasant enough. He would gather his thoughts and enjoy the peacefulness.

"I wasn't always this way…you know…"

Her casual tone and the fact that she actually chose to speak to him caused him to blink rapidly. When he searched for her face behind the flames, he saw that her eyes were bright and her expression was one of a storyteller eager to begin her tale.

He didn't know what to say or if he should say anything, so he sat silently, but let the eagerness in his posture speak his undying interest in her words to come.

Taking a stick, she poked at the burning wood to maintain the fire and her eyes and voice drifted to a memory of a faraway place. Murtagh gave her his undivided attention.

"I can still remember the last time that I wore a dress…I was twelve years old. I was picking wild berries from the forest...My mother made the best pie. My father was working in the smithy and my younger sister was playing… just playing. I had been busy in the forest for most of the morning. It was getting late and I chose to return. It was a beautiful afternoon as I crested the hill…that was when I saw it…smoke…

I stared down at the village and saw that it had been destroyed…Annihilated…Fire was eating everything…But I didn't see it…All I saw were the bodies…everywhere…slain….Not one being was left alive…Everyone I knew….Everyone I had ever known and grew to love was brutally murdered…

I found an old man… his face beaten beyond recognition…he was moments from death…I begged him to tell me who did it! He muttered a single word "Morzan" and then he went limp…

Alone amongst the smoke and death, I dropped to my knees and I cried…I yelled to the skies…I yelled so the Gods could hear me…and I swore vengeance upon mine enemy…I wanted the heavens to know that I would not rest until I had killed him!

I knew I had to leave…but I could not leave them unburied…I was young…too weak to dig a grave big enough for an entire village, so I piled them up….All of them…Some of the bodies were so mutilated that I could not bring myself to look…I dragged arms and legs and whatever I could find…until they were in one big heap…I moved my family last of all…wanting to remember their faces above all the rest…I made myself stare into their lifeless eyes…and I kissed their bloodied brows…And then I did all that I was capable of…I burned them…I burned them all…I lit the fire that sent the stench of fifty smoking corpses to cloud the air…I stood back.. breathed in…and watched as the last remnants of my life crumbled to ash and went up in smoke…

For six years now, I have wandered from village to village, city to city, training, listening to stories, seeking information…I sacrificed my feminine attire for a tunic and leggings…I refused to braid my hair…I have trained hard, if not harder than any man I have ever known…

When the news spread that Morzan had been slain…I was overjoyed.. and yet…I felt robbed…cheated. I wanted to be the one who ended his life…But the honour was not meant to be mine….

Since that moment, I have suffered nightmares…mocking me…reminding me that it should have been me…. That my work is not yet done…

I appeased my guilt by seeing that I could lay the blame for the existence of Morzan on Galbatorix and I moved all my anger and hate towards our King…

And now…I am here..protecting our one hope to crush our foe and to join the Varden.

So now you know…this is why I take the first watch…this is why I light the fire…so that I may remember why I am what I am and remember those that I burned…"

Murtagh could not bring himself to look at her. He was filled with shame for his father's actions and he could now fully understand her previous bitterness and resentment towards him. He stood to leave, but she stopped him in his tracks with a few words.

"You are not your father…"

He returned to his seat apprehensively, but he could not bring himself to meet her eyes.

"You are helping those in need. You saved my life. I owe you a debt. You should not suffer for your father's monstrous deeds. I owe you my life…"

She found her hand reaching for her knife and held it above her hand. A part of her didn't understand what she was doing, but the other urged her to do something that she had only heard of in tales. Opening her hand, she slid the blade across the palm of her hand and bit down on her tongue, as the blade sliced a fine line across her flesh. A line of fresh blood oozed from the wound. Standing, she approached Murtagh and knelt before him, offering him her knife.

The moment seemed like something out of a strange dream. Murtagh accepted the knife and found himself unquestioningly cutting his own palm and staring at her in wonder.

Reaching out her open, bloodied hand, he took it with his own and felt a warm sticky sensation as their blood mixed together and their wounds became one.

Her voice was hard and true and she spoke every word with a

binding finality.

"I misjudged you…you saved me…and now I bind myself to you…This is a promise…A pact sealed by blood…It will never be broken…Not until death… I swear to you Murtagh…I swear that I will protect you…I swear that I will stand and fight by your side…I swear that I will be here in your time of need…This is my promise to you"

"And I you…"

"By our scars, may we never forget it. For our blood runs through each others veins from this moment forth"

"The pact is sealed"

"Aye…"

With a final tight grip of their hands, they released their hold and held each other's gazes, before Lia turned to return to her seating place. She was but a few paces away, when she heard his voice.

"…You used to wear a dress?"

The question was asked in such a way, that it made a broad smile spread across her face. Glancing over her shoulder, she shyly added another revelation.

"I used to put flowers in my hair as well…"

They exchanged entertained grins, before he added a more serious question.

"Will you not wake me to take the second watch"

"I think I may..I think I may sleep tonight without any fear…"

"For my own sake, I still won't try to wake you in the morning"

"Wise decision Good Sir! I would hate to break my promise by being the one who attacks you!"

He snorted his laughter and lay on his side, rolling his cloak up to form a pillow. Through a noisy yawn, but still with a small smile, he uttered four words.

"Good night My Lady"

"Good night Good Sir!"

Lia sat back down and watched as he fell asleep, looking completely relaxed. Now, with the whole camp to herself and no distraction to pull her away from her thoughts, she glanced at her throbbing hand and realised, she was content. There was hope. This was the beginning of a new chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

Sat at the dining room table, Eragon found himself staring down at his simple breakfast that lay before him. Cold chicken. Dry bread. It was so real. He wanted to take a bite and enjoy a taste of home. But it frightened him. Maybe he never awoke from these dreams because he never did what he wanted the most?

From the kitchen, he could hear Garrow whistling a merry tune. All he had to do was leave the table and walk into the next room and Garrow would be there. But what if he wasn't? What if he disappeared? What if he was never meant to see him again? His fear of being robbed of these dreams kept him firmly in his seat.

Roran looked past him and glanced at the doorway, before picking up a chicken leg and biting into the soft and tender meat. Eragon eyed the food enviously. His plate remained untouched. Having noticed his cousin's lack of appetite, Roran moved his own plate to one side and leaned forward across the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

"You're not ready to see him yet…are you?"

"No…"

"And what about her?"

"She is trapped somewhere…I don't know what fate has befallen her…"

"No, not her!…the other one…"

"Lia?"

"Yes, her!…will you let her?"

"I don't know…"

"I think you should, you know"

"You're not the only one…"

"She's special…it would be right…I don't know why…it just would…"

Lazily, he plucked another leg from his plate and began to tear off chunks with his teeth. Eragon frowned and folded his arms.

"How do you know about Lia anyway?"

Roran shrugged his shoulders, grinned and winked.

"How am I supposed to know? This is your dream!"

Compelled to argue, Eragon thought of something to say when a gush of warm air blast down upon them. Shielding his eyes, Roran turned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Looks like its time for you to wake up…"

With a second blast of air, Eragon felt himself fading from his surrounding and materialising in a place where the warmth grew even stronger.

Saphira had slept wonderfully. It was the first night in a long time that she did not feel the urge to merely nap and be constantly alert for her and the Rider's safety. It was too early to proclaim friendship with their companions, but somehow, after the previous day, there was now an element of trust. She trusted Lia and despite Murtaghs's outburst, Lia seemed to trust him, which in turn, put Saphira's mind at ease.

However, now, after eight hours of blissful, uninterrupted sleep, she grew impatient. This day, Eragon would decide whether he would consent to her bonding with another. The concept was rather preposterous, not to mention unheard of. But she found the idea far too interesting and tempting to ignore or pass by.

Not wanting to wake him, she began to wish that he would wake up on his own accord. After an hour, she could barely contain herself. Leaning her head towards his, she gazed into his sleeping face to see if there were any signs of his stirring any time soon.

Her breath caused his eyes to flicker beneath their lids, before he slowly opened his eyes and yawned. Rubbing the sleep from them, he looked up through the trees to see the sun shining through, it was a clear and beautiful day. All was calm and peaceful and then there was Saphira, choosing to stare at him politely, trying to hide the excitement that he felt building up behind her calm exterior.

Of all the unfathomable things, he found himself thinking of Roran's words within his dream. He was not pleased, but he could not deny the truth. He wanted to believe that he had a choice, but it was a lie. He had every right to choose whatever he wanted…which is why he surprised himself with his next words.

_Allright…_

_What do you mean?_

_Don't pretend you don't know! Don't pretend you haven't been waiting all morning to hear my answer! I could feel your impatience in my sleep!_

_Maybe I was a little impatient…_

_Well now you can let it all out. You have my consent_

_Thank you. You won't regret it_

_I'd better not!_

_And how are we feeling this morning?_

_I don't know about you, but I feel like a cripple_

_Do you hurt as much?_

_No…thankfully…but I am too terrified to move in fear of bringing back the pain…_

_You will have to move eventually…_

_I know…but not today…today I just want to be still…have Lia make me more of that delightful herbal concoction of hers and rub some of that repulsive salve on my broken chest_

_She won't be long_

_Where is she?_

_They have both gone hunting_

_How long have they been awake?_

_They rose an hour or two ago_

_After all that running and riding and fighting…I would have expected them to sleep until midday?!_

_No…they are light sleepers…they seem to require little rest…upon waking, they appeared sufficiently rested…_

_Unbelievable_

_Impressive_

_Well, I guess we shall just have to wait for them.. after all…it's not like I can go anywhere….but you can go and fly if you wish?_

_Not yet. I will wait_

Very well 

Half an hour passed in silence as they waited and let their surrounding soothe their minds. Clear, fresh air filled their lungs. Birds chattered around them and there was a crisp, yet pleasant chill in the morning breeze.

Finally, they caught sigh of one of their two hunters. Murtagh appeared with his knife in one hand and the three rabbits. Two tied to his belt and the third in his other hand. At the sight of Eragon up and awake, Murtagh smirked and attempted to resume his usual manner.

"Why Rider, up so soon? Why not indulge yourself in some more beauty sleep. I dare say you could use some"

Eyeing her Rider, Saphira secretly agreed. Sensing her scrutinising look, Eragon glared and opened his mouth to speak.

"Good morning to you too Murtagh"

The pain was there, but it was less. Murtag's ears pricked at the words and he nodded his approval and laughed.

"The Rider speaks! This is good! Before you know it, you shall be singing, dancing and sparring once more!"

Approaching the still burning fire, Murtagh began to skin the rabbits and prepare them for one of his simple, yet fine stews. The smell of fresh meat greeted Saphira and caused her stomach to lurch with greed.

"Where is Lia?"

About to answer, Murtagh turned his head and the stopped, staring somewhere behind them with an unbelieving look on his face and a wide grin.

"Not bad…for a girl…"

It wasn't the first time he had used those words, however, on this occasion, they were spoken without the intent of insulting her. She had a handful of herbs and a young deer slung over her shoulder. She looked every inch the huntress she was more than capable of being. Walking before Saphira, she dumped the dead animal in front of her, before turning to nod at Eragon.

"Good morning Rider..I trust you slept well?"

"Yes"

"You can speak? Good. I will make more medicine for you and we will see you recover faster yet"

Wasting no time, Saphira bared her teeth and sunk them into the carcass before her.

_Thank you Lia…his meat is young and tender…_

_It was the least I could do_

Joining Murtagh by the fire, she once more began to create her herbal remedy. Busy slicing chunks of meat, Murtagh spoke without looking at her.

"Of course, you realise that with Eraon incapacitated, I am lacking a sparring partner. Would you care to join me?"

"Am I a second choice? The unwanted alternative? How flattering! How could I possibly refuse an offer like that?"

She sounded sarcastic, but her tone was entertained. It was as if despite everything, they were adamant to cling onto the normality of their previous relationship. There was something severely boring in being pleasant. It lacked any form of fun. If she were willing to continue their game, then he would gladly play along. The only difference was that these insults were now made with mischievous smiles on their lips.

"I apologise. Did I offend you? I forgot how sensitive you females are. Or perhaps you are weary and need to lie down? Is that it? Or is it the frightening possibility that I could beat you and shame you in clear view of our Saviour?"

Lia's eyes rose to meet his. They held each other's challenging glares for a few moments before she clicked her tongue.

"Was that a threat?"

"That my lady, was a promise"

She turned to Eragon and offered him a charming smile.

"Rider…I feel I must warn you that our numbers will shortly be reduced by one"

"Are you leaving so soon?" Murtagh asked innocently.

Ignoring his question, Lia got to her feet, lay a bowl of herbal tea by Eragon's side and knelt before him. She glanced at his bandaged ribs, reached into her pocket and produced the salve.

"May I take a look at you?"

"Do what you must"

He braced himself for the pain and watched as she pulled out her knife and sliced through his bandages. Looking away, he could not bring himself to acknowledge the state of his wound. Lia seemed unfazed by the sight of his severely bruised ribs. Scooping up a generous dollop of salve in her fingers, she began to massage it gently into his chest.

Her touch was gentle and precise. She caused him no more pain that was necessary, for which he was grateful. Whilst she worked the salve into his skin, she spoke.

"It looks worse than it is. The fact that it bruised so quickly means you will recover well"

"How bad does it look?"

"It looks like a horse kicked you in the chest! It's not pretty"

"The pain is less. How long do you think it will take to heal?"

"I will not lie to you Eragon. It could be weeks. Probably a month"

"So long…"

"Be thankful broken ribs is all that you suffer! How is your breathing? Have you coughed up blood?"

"My breathing is a little painful, but normal .I have coughed up no blood"

"That is good. A man could bleed to death internally and I would not have been able to help you. You were lucky. Be grateful. Rest while you can. For any normal being, a wound like this would take a month.. but with your Rider privelidges..maybe you will be luckier?"

"We can only hope"

"Indeed"

"What of the bandages?"

"You are stationary and I think the air will do it some good. Let your skin breathe. Relax. Eat and watch as I show Murtagh exactly what it feels like to have his arse kicked by a girl"

Before he could consider the consequences of his reaction, a fit of laughter burst from his lips. It hurt, but it almost seemed worth it for the look on Murtagh's face. Ignoring the agony, he grinned. From behind them, Murtagh replied to her threat with a menacing laugh and a pitying look.

"In your wildest dreams my lady"

"A dream? With you?…surely that would be a nightmare?"

"Enough talk…breakfast is almost ready…first we dine…then I'll make you eat your words"

She reached out her hands to take her bowl from his outstretched arm, only to find that he held it firmly in his grip. A childish look spread across his face and she sneered at him, unimpressed.

"If you expect me to beg for my breakfast, you can think again"

"Take it.. you will need it.."

"I don't need anything to pin you to the floor"

"Why my lady? If that is all you are interested in, you should have but asked"

He eyed her up and down with a playful smile, as a man would a common whore. Realising the implicating of her words, she prised the bowl from his hands, threw him a disgusted look, turned on her heel and walked away. Only when her back was turned, did she allow embarrassment to paint her face red.

Seating herself between Eragon and Murtagh, she ate her stew and imagined the many different ways that she would wreak petty revenge on him. They all ate in companionable silence and after their bowls were empty and cleaned, they put out the fire.

Unable to move properly, boredom began to cause Eragon to seek any form of entertainment that he could find. Thus far, his only inspirations were his two bickering companions and he intended to make full use of them. Smiling cruelly, he chose to remind them of their arrangement.

"I cannot spare any magic to seal your swords, but some good old fashioned brawling never hurt anyone"

"Until now…" Lia added, casting Murtagh an obliging smile

"Oh I won't go easy on you my lady...I'm not afraid to hit a girl"

"Neither am I.."

It took him a few moments to register her insult, before he stood with his feet slightly apart, one in front of the other and his fists raised. His passion for the release of fighting overrode every other feeling. Seeing the look in his eyes, Lia couldn't help but feel the heat and excitement cause her limbs to twitch in anticipation. Mirroring his stance, she didn't take her eyes off her opponent.

Eragon held his breath. He could feel Saphira's eagerness. With a few words, he would start this act. An act that could end up with them in a similar position to himself. Engrossed in the moment, he didn't care. Everyone awaited his instruction. He spoke. One word.

"Begin!"

Slowly, they started to circle each other, waiting for the right moment to attack. Their primal urge to strike instantly was suppressed by their need to demonstrate their skill. For a long minute, nothing happened. Murtagh grew impatient. He had held out for as long as possible. He wanted to wipe the mocking smile from her face. He took her bait. He attacked first.

Lia saw that he was about to hit her. Dropping his right shoulder, he was going to punch with his left arm. She prepared to dodge to her right, but he had feinted the move and attacked with his right arm instead. At the last moment, she leaned backwards as his fist hit the air where her face had been a second before.

Keeping perfect balance, she hopped backwards and rethought her strategy. He was being cunning. She liked that. There was no fun in an easy fight. But if he was going to try and be clever, then so was she. He threw another punch. She was ready for it. Catching his fist in the palm of her hand, she nimbly danced around him and wrenched his arm behind his back. He hissed in annoyance, but there was an edge of delight to his voice. They stood perfectly still.

"Does my lady want to play rough?"

"Why Murtagh, I thought you would never ask!"

"Just say the word my lady…"

"Pretty please?"

"It will be my pleasure!"

Laughing, she released his arm and he spun around and punched her hard across her jaw. She felt her head rock to the side and momentarily saw black, before she tasted blood. Spitting to the ground, she rolled her shoulders and let her anger and her humiliation drive her to her limit. He stood gloating, but he was ready for her attack. Or at least that was what he thought.

Unleashing her wrath, she rushed at him, but instead of attacking him with the expected blows of a drunken madman, she used her other style. At the last moment, she shifted her balance from each foot, one to the other and each time one left the ground, a powerful kick met his surprised body with a dynamic thud.

The first kick caught him under the chin. He felt himself stumbling backwards. The second landed in his stomach, causing him to double over and as her finishing move, she dropped to the ground and with a sweep of her legs, knocked him from his feet.

Lying defeated on his back, Lia pinned his arms down with her hands and sat on his legs, immobilising him. Leaning her face towards his, he could see a welt rising on her jaw. Blood stained her lips. But for all that, he saw only the beauty of her victory. He should have been angry. He was defeated. But all he could do was stare at her. She smiled and let her eyes rest on his chin, where an angry bruise and grazed skin were the result of her handiwork.

"You don't look so pretty anymore"

"That's interesting… because you look better than before we began"

Letting go of his arms, she reached up and touched her jaw, before brushing the hair from her face. Sitting up, Murtagh lightly brushed his fingers over his chin and winced, before chuckling.

"You punished me well.. not a lot of people live to tell the tale"

"Let me see!"

Taking his face in her hands, she looked at the graze and snorted in amusement.

"You are whining like a child! It's only a flesh wound!"

"I am not whining woman!"

Grabbing her hands, he removed them from his face. Only then did they realise that she had absentmindedly remained sat upon his lap and they now appeared to be holding hands. There were a few seconds were neither moved and then, as if the image were too disturbing to behold, they leapt away from each other as if someone had set fire to their backsides. Eragon laughed. Saphira hummed thoughtfully.

"Oh please! Don't stop on mine and Saphira's account!"

Murtagh tried to look angry, but he found himself looking alarmed. Lia stalked away without giving him a backward glance and licked the dry blood from her lips. Eragon nodded to Saphira, who rose into a standing position and stared hard at Lia.

_This is your last chance to change your mind little one_

_My mind is set. But as I have trusted our judgement, will you trust mine?_

_Of course_

_Good_

"Lia…Saphira is going to stretch her wings…would you care to join her?"

Both Saphira and Lia stared at him incredulously. Lia could not speak. She could not move. Saphira taken by complete surprise, bombarded him with questions.

_Eragon! What you are suggesting is… is?.. is?!…are you sure you want this?_

_You wanted to bond with her Saphia and from my own experience, nothing brings me closer to you than when we are in the air. I offer her this opportunity. I may not feel so generous in the future. Will you carry her?_

I will 

_Then tell her. She looks dumbfounded and stares at me as if I was delirious!_

Lia began to wonder if she did not pay enough attention to his condition. He appeared to be recovering, but did he have a fever? Maybe he was suffering over-tiredness? His offer was unexpected. And yet. She wanted nothing more than to say yes. She began to wonder if this was real at all? Was she sleeping? Could she ever really ride a dragon?

Lia… will you ride with me? 

Unmistakably, the real voice of Saphira penetrated her mind and without hesitation, Lia replied.

It would be an honour 

Murtagh heard Eragon's offer and assumed that it was some form of joke, before he saw the look passing between Lia and Saphira. Amazed, he walked between them and stood before Eragon.

"You are going to let her ride Saphira?""

"Well… she did bring her breakfast"

Unable to comprehend the Rider's actions Murtagh burst into laughter and Eragon grinned- unwilling to divulge his motive at that point in time. Assessing the dragon's height, Murtagh glanced at Lia and tipped her a wink.

"Would you like some help into the saddle my lady?"

Saphira lowered herself, ready to be mounted. Still finding speech impossible, she gave a small thankful nod and slowly walked to Saphira's side. Kneeling on the ground, Murtagh offered his bent knee as a step up onto her back. He offered her a hand, which she accepted as she climbed into the saddle.

Once in the saddle, she let the moment hit her. She was on a dragon! She was actually sat atop a real dragon! She could feel herself rising and falling every so slightly with every great breath that was being drawn by the giant creature. She reached to take a hold of the handle on the saddle and found her hand straying to one of the giant scales below. She had to know that it was real. She had to touch her. As her hand touched the cool, smooth scale, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. The smile, which spread across her face, caused her cheeks to ache.

Murtagh took a step back and surveyed the two of them. Although he could not read into Saphira's emotions, her body language showed an enthusiasm that he had never seen and Lia… Lia looked exactly as he would have expected. Like a child living her dream. He wondered why he did not feel any jealous for her? Instead, he felt her joy and wanted her to fulfil her fantasy.

_Are you ready Lia? You may want to hold on tight?_

_I… I am ready_

Standing up on her hind legs, Saphira beat her wings. Lia leaned forward in the saddle to keep upright and gripped the saddle until her hands hurt. With a second flap, they were off the ground and every flap thereafter sent them rising fast through a gap in the trees. As the surrounding forest dropped below them, Lia laughed as she finally learned what it was like to fly. Back on the ground, Murtagh seated himself behind Eragon and continued to scan the skies.

"That was a curious and yet noble thing you did Rider"

"You believe so?"

"I do not know your reason and I do not need to know. But I know this. You have given her something no one else could. You have changed her life"

"You really care about her, don't you?"

Murtagh made a show of spluttering and making a series of incoherent noises, before allowing a small shrug to contradict his behaviour.

"I won't feed your sick fantasy Rider…but I do not dislike her.. she is an admirable lady…a formidable opponent..I respect her.. I'm.. I'm not good with words…"

His voice trailed off and Eragon smirked, despite himself. With a tremendous effort, he raised a hand and patted Murtagh on the back.

"I can tell"

Murtagh frowned, Eragon chuckled. They both stared back up at the sky. The mood was light-hearted and their silence, mutual and yet comfortable.

Up above, Lia saw how the land looked from the skies above. She found herself taking in every small detail and welcoming the sensation of the flight. Already her legs began to ache from the ride, but the pain caused her to grin even more. She was riding a dragon! This was a small price to pay! And every step of the way, she could feel Saphira's emotions. They fused with her own.

Between them, there was only happiness and bliss. Daring to release her hands from the saddle, she held them high above her head and felt as if she was flying herself. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this experience. It was beyond anything that she had every imagined. It was the most amazing, exhilarating, beautiful and serene experience of her life so far. All her worries. Her past. Up here. It dissolved into nothing. This moment was perfection in its purest definition. Life had been cruel thus far, but this moment made her every moment worth living. She would carry this moment in her heart forever. With their feelings as one, Saphira asked what she wanted to most.

Show me who are…share with me and I will share with you… 

Lia responded by opening doorways to her mind that had previous been locked. She would allow Saphira to see into her past, but she would not betray Murtagh and therefore, left some memories suppressed. Similarly. Saphira appeared to do the same.

I am ready Saphira… As am I… 

A rush of memories passed between them. The memories presented themselves as snippets of scenes, pictures, feelings, one after another, appearing and disappearing at great speed. It was as if both beings were reluctant and unused to sharing, but they felt obligated to show their trust by this exchange.

Saphira watched and felt each memory. As one passed, another more depressing followed. This girl knew nothing but hardship and pain for what seemed like a very long time. The memories began with a happy childhood. A happy family. Then a massacre occurred. A fire. She was alone. She fended for herself. She had no home. She begged for food and shelter. She was beaten. She ran away. She was always somewhere different. So many different people in her life. She learned defence. She learned folklore. She was ever changing. She had no home. Her only purpose seemed to be here and now. Saphira saw all this and it saddened her, but also filled her with admiration.

Lia saw Saphira hatch. How Eragon looked after her. Their long journey. Brom's death. The appearance of Murtagh and a series of other emotions, mostly consisting of worry and love for her Rider. She forgot that Saphira was less than a year old. Other memories existed, but they were shielded from her.

_Are you ready to land now?_

_I don't think I will ever be ready_

_I have enjoyed this_

_As have I_

_Do you not feel it?_

_I feel something… something has changed_

_Our bond is closer_

_What does it mean?_

_This…_

Saphira severed their connection. Suddenly feeling alone and in the middle of the sky, Lia panicked and without thought as to how, she reached for Saphira and yelled.

DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE UP HERE! 

Saphira laughed. Lia wondered why she was entertained when it became clear. She had touched minds with her. It had been easy and impulsive and natural. She felt Saphira glow as she dipped her head and then began their slow descent to the ground. They did not interrupt the moment with conversation. Together, they savoured the last moments of their flight and landed softly a few metres from where Eragon and Murtagh sat awaiting them.

Murtagh leapt to his feet and approached them. Lia eased herself from the saddle and only when her legs touched the ground, did she sway. Leaning against Saphira's side for balance, she giggled before standing before the dragon and bowing her head in reverence.

"Saphira…I know not what to say..only that I shall remain grateful to you for all eternity…you are the most amazing being and you take my breath away.. what I mean…is thank you"

Stopping by Lia's side, Murtagh saw that her eyes were shining with tears unwilling to fall.

Reach out a hand… both of you… 

"Murtagh..reach out a hand"

"Why?"

"I don't know…"

Together, they reached out a hand and Saphira moved her head ever closer. Lia inhaled sharply, overwhelmed that Saphira would allow them to pet her. It seemed a crime. Murtagh fought to keep his hand held held out, half expecting it to be bitten. Their hands remained steady, and as they made contact with Saphir'a smooth brow, a strange warmth erupted through the palms of their hands. Instinctively, they wanted to withdraw, but Saphira held their courage with her mysterious eyes. When the warmth died, their palms slid from her face and they stared in wonder at the result of the strange sensation.

_This is my gift to you both…_

_Saphira..what is this?_

_I do not know… I wanted to give you something and then Murtagh arrived and it seemed that I wanted to give him something also.._

_What does it mean?_

_I wish I could tell you. There are aspects of and reasons for my magic that even I do not yet understand. But it is a gift all the same. Whatever it is. Use it wisely…_

Leaving them, Saphira padded over towards Eragon and lay herself behind him once more. Relieved to have his dragon back by his side, Eragon turned his head and kissed her side. Arching her neck, she rested her head beside his.

Murtagh gazed at his palm. Lia gazed at hers. Across the very palms, which they had cut the night before, were a series of small silver lines. It was as if a fine craftsman had etched a tattoo with a fine silver pencil. And what was printed into their skin? The features of the other. Murtagh carried the image of Lia. Lia carried the image of Murtagh. In unison, they looked up and stared at each other questioningly.

"Lia.. what?.. how?… why?"

"It's something we shall have to discover for ourselves"

Closing her hand, she glanced back at the sky and wondered if the joy of the flight was a sweet start to another strange series of events. She was suddenly confused. Alien emotions and feelings consumed her and then.. a voice

_Why are there never any simple answers?_

The voice was deep, velvety and filled with annoyance. It sounded as if it was a part of her, but it was not. But there was no question as to whom it belonged to. It was Murtagh. The only thing she could do was answer his thought.

If all the answers were simple, life would be all the more boring 

Painfully slowly, Murtagh backed away form her and his brow creased.

"How did you do that?"

"It is Saphira's gift…"

"I have my barriers up all the time!"

"I heard you first"

"But.. I was only thinking…"

"Were you directing your thoughts to me?"

"..yes.."

"Well…it looks as if blood isn't the only thing that binds you and I…"

She did not wait for his reply and chose to walk away before she heard any more of his thoughts. He held his tongue as his brain struggled to deal with this new information. He watched her leave, before thinking to himself.

Maybe this is a good thing… 

"Maybe…"

The reply was spoken aloud over Lia's shoulder. How had she heard him? He had not directed his thought at her? Were there rules to this kind of communication? The questions whirled around his head until he almost felt sick with dizziness. Unable to think of any other reaction, he began to laugh. It started off lightly and then he could not bring himself to stop.

Lia, now somehow tied to his emotions, felt the comedy of the moment take hold of her and she too began to laugh hysterically. Partially because of his effect on her, but mostly due to her own inability to accept their situation. They both collapsed to the floor and laughed and laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks.

Eragon had begun to worry when their laughter did not seem to cease, but he found himself joining in after a while.

What is so funny? 

_Life_, Saphira answered simply.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 

Two weeks and four days passed. Eragon, Murtagh and Lia crested a hill and gazed down upon their destination. They were finally here. Each wore a different expression from the other. Eragon showed excitement. After a painfully long wait, he was about to embark on a rescue mission for the girl that called out to him in his sleep. Murtagh eyed the city with a look of contempt. This was their last stop before the Varden and he did not feel ready to part company with them so soon. Lia's face remained neutral, although at a closer look, one could see the apprehension in her eyes.

Saphira had wanted to come closer, but they feared that sentries on the wall surrounding the city may have caught sight of her and they needed this safe place to rest and plan what they would do next.

Murmuring an incantation, Eragon allowed his sight to join with Saphira's and between them, they examined life beyond the city walls. Focusing on the roads and alleys, they detected no sign of anything out of the ordinary. There were guards scattered here and there, but being this close to the heart of the Empire, it wasn't unexpected. They hadn't spoken a word in a long while. Eragon broke the silence, turning to talk to his comrades.

"It looks as safe as it will ever be..."

Murtagh averted his eyes uncomfortably and pulled a face.

"I wish you would warn us before changing your eyes… it is most disconcerting"

Eragon grinned wolfishly. Lia stared into the Rider's sapphire blue eyes and found herself lost in them. Somewhere behind them, Saphira was staring right back at her. Eragon blinked rapidly and once more, his eyes were his own. Hunkering down, he slapped his thighs enthusiastically and addressed the issue at hand.

"Here's the plan.. we get inside.. we find the prison.. we set her free.. we get out"

"Is that all? And what about after? A warm drink and a game of dice?" Murtagh asked, his sarcasm blatant.

"I haven't thought that far ahead" Eragon answered honestly.

"Well let me make it easy for you Rider"

"How?"

"Let me start by telling you that this is one of the poorest plans I have ever heard!"

"You think you can come up with something better?"

"As a matter of fact, I do"

"Indulge me…"

"For one thing, despite what you may have seen, we still don't know what the situation is like within the walls and even if this girl is there!"

"I'm telling you, I know! I feel it in my gut…"

"Is a gut feeling worth facing exposure? Or do you forget that you are now the most wanted man in Alagaesia? You can't just go marching in there with some ridiculous guise and expect not to be recognised! The price on your head is too high! No… A better plan would be to send a scout to infiltrate the enemy territory and find information"

"This is my cause… I should be the one taking the risks"

Lia intervened, hoping to stop an argument before the opportunity arose.

"Eragon…Murtagh is right. We need to make sure that it is worth the risk…"

"Do not fret Rider I shall go and return with news by nightfall"

"Are you forgetting that the Empire also seeks you?"

"Not at all. But you are the greater threat. Guards. Soldiers. Mercenaries. They will be searching for you. Not for I."

"Besides, he won't be going alone…", Lia added with a firm tone and subtle clench of her right fist.

Murtagh's left hand seemed to curl up instinctively and he nodded, accepting her statement. Taking in the position of the sun, Eragon frowned and shook his head impatiently.

"It has just passed noon… and you say you will return by nightfall?"

"A job isn't worth doing if it isn't worth doing properly Rider. Patience is a virtue"

"I think she has waited long enough"

"We understand your reluctance Rider, but whilst she is your concern, you are ours. We swore to keep you alive and we are fulfilling our part of the bargain"

"Let us do this…Murtagh and I… this is our area of expertise. We will return as soon as possible and then, based on our findings, construct a plan that will save this girl and our hides"

Their words were what he had expected. They made perfect sense. He wanted to argue. After so long, what little was left of his patience had diminished. But he swallowed hard and accepted their offer. Only a fool would turn down the help and wise words of those wiser and more experienced. Both characters intrigued him. They were older than he by two years was. At the age of eighteen, they seemed to be of two extreme behaviours. There was no in between. One minute they were serious and the next, they acted like children. But they knew things. Their abilities for survival and their knowledge of the world made them invaluable. Indeed, he was lucky to have such folk devoted to serving his cause- although as of yet, his path was still unclear.

"Very well… go… but do not hesitate to return at the first sign of danger"

At his words Murtagh laughed.

"No need to worry your pretty head… fighting I am good at… but avoiding harm is what I do best. Are you ready my Lady?"

"But of course…"

"You realise that a little role play may be required to gain entrance?"

"I expected nothing less"

Giving Eragon a final nod, Murtagh and Lia mounted their horses and began cantering down the slope.

_They will be fine_, Saphira cooed in his ear

It's not them I'm worried about… 

Unable to do anything but wait, he lay down and stared up at the sky. Not wanting to leave him alone with his thoughts, in case he decided to take any foolish action, Saphira stayed nearby. It was going to be a long afternoon awaiting the return of their colleagues. The situation was out of their hands now. All they could do was sit and hope.

At a steady pace, Murtagh and Lia approached the high walls of the city. The gates were open, but two guards stood on either side of the opening. At a distance of twenty metres, Murtagh muttered to Lia.

"We should walk from here"

"And if anyone asks?"

"We are newly weds"

His face was serious, but as the words left his mouth, he found himself grinning. Lia pursed her lips tightly to refrain from laughing, but she nodded. Despite the ludicrous notion, it was a simple and likely story as any. Approaching the gate, he mocking went to take her hand. She suprisingly accepted it. Less suprisingly, she followed the motion with a deliberate crush of his fingers. Murtagh hissed in pain, but did not withdraw. Her grip only lessened as they began to pass the guards. They were almost fooled into thinking passage would be easy, when one of the guards stepped forward.

"Halt… state your names and what business you have in Gil' Ead?"

Lia was about to answer, when Murtagh beat her to it.

"I am Markus. This enchanting lady is Rose. We are not here for business my friend, but pleasure. We are recently married and wish to spend some time and coin in this fair city"

"I see… well, enjoy your stay… the gates close at nightfall and open at daybreak… Be wary.. these are strange folk about"

"Thank you for your concern, but I doubt that we shall wander further than the bedroom" Murtagh added with a meaningful nod and stuck his tongue in his cheek. The guard chortled.

With a warning, painful crunching of his fingers, Lia smiled at the guard warmly and dragged Murtagh with one hand and Snowfire with the other. Once they were out of earshot, Lia wanted to scold him and then though better of it. Murtagh saw her discomfort and couldn't resist swinging an arm around her shoulders in sickeningly romantic gesture. Tensing, she winced as he spoke in a disturbingly seductive tone.

"You seem uncomfortable my dear, was it something I said?"

"Damn you Murtagh…I agreed to do what it takes to get us inside these walls. You can stop the act and remove your cursed arm from my now tainted body! "

"Clearly you have never played this game before?"

"This isn't a game. We are here on business"

"Of course it's a game. It's all a game. It's the game of staying alive. You want to stay alive, don't you?"

"Do not use that condescending tone with me. I know much more about staying alive than you may think!"

"Then be a good little wife and play the part"

Staring to the heavens, she prayed for patience. As usual, Murtagh was pushing her patience to the limit for his own amusement. Some things never changed. She could have argued, but this was neither the time nor the place. Grudgingly, she respected his knowledge in these matters and would indeed force herself to act in whatever way was necessary to accomplish their task. Easing her face into a more relaxed state, she rolled her eyes and offered him a wink and a playful smile. Winking back, he smirked and dropped his arm from her shoulders. With great effort, she linked her arm into his.

"My lady…I do believe we can make an actress of you yet…" he whispered in a superior voice, which made her want to elbow him in the groin.

Stopping in their tracks and staring at the road that lay ahead, a familiarity passed across their features. Sensing his emotions, Lia projected her thoughts.

_You have been here before…_

_Yes… as have you…_

_A long time ago… yourself?_

_Not so long ago_

_Then you remember the way to the stables?_

_Yes_

_Let us secure the horses.. then we can get out of here as quickly as possible_

_I take it your last stay was as pleasant as my own?_

"I wonder where the stables are situated?" 

Avoiding his question and speaking aloud, Murtagh gathered that her previous experience in the city was not a topic available for discussion. Making a show of looking momentarily confused, he glanced around before choosing the correct path.

"I believe it is that way.. shall we?"

Leading her by the arm to the stables was a strange affair. The streets seemed devoid of life and yet, they remained maintaining physical contact in the off chance that they were stopped. It was an odd feeling. Treating Lia like a lady was something that did not come naturally to him. It almost seemed an insult to be offering her his arm. On the other hand, with her cloak fastened around her, hiding her masculine garb and muscular physique, she was quite easily passing as a striking young maiden.

Lia paid little attention to what she was doing. Five years may have passed since she had last resided within these walls, but it seemed as if nothing had changed. The fear she had felt then crept up on her, as once more, they made their way to the last place she had seen before running away.

Memories that had been suppressed for years began to resurface. Knowing that Murtagh could feel what she felt made her fight all the more harder to remain focused and calm. But as they entered the stables, she felt her legs begin to tremble. Sounding more comfortable than she felt, she made an excuse to stay clear of the building.

"Darling, I shall wait outside"

"I shan't be long"

The second he was out of sight, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes tight. It only made it worse. In the pit of her mind, she saw things that she didn't want to. Opening her eyes again, she glared. No. She would not let her past fears take a hold of her in this way. Having endured so much since those days, she was stronger than this. Like flicking a switch in her mind, she stopped these feelings. They were facts. Things that happened a long time ago. Nothing more. They didn't matter. None of it mattered anymore.

Someone touched her arm. She jumped out of her skin and then cursed silently, as she realised it was only Murtagh. He smiled at her apologetically. Giving a weak smile in return, she reluctantly linked her arm into his and they began to walk down the street and towards the city centre.

Murtagh was uneasy. When he had entered the barn, he had found it difficult to breathe. His heart was hammering in his chest, as anxiety that wasn't his engulfed him and left him scarcely able to utter a few words to the stable boy. It disturbed him. Lia, who seemed unfazed by most things and who carried a battle lust such as his own had felt fear that he had never known. The emotion had passed. She seemed to have recovered. He hadn't. He couldn't help himself. Daring to pry, he chose this moment to reach out to her.

What happened… what happened that made you feel so helpless… 

Her grip on his arm seemed to tighten, almost painfully. Her pace slowed. He slowed to match her.

Almost feeling proud of her self-control, Lia had relaxed. And then Murtagh had asked the question which broke down her defences. This time, she didn't fight it. She couldn't find the strength. Being here made it impossible. She would answer him. It wasn't as if she could hide it. They shared so much. Hiding thoughts and feelings was not an art they had mastered yet. Over the weeks since their "gift" they had tried various exercises to test the extent of their link. It remained a mystery. Unpredictable and intrusive…and yet oddly comforting at times. But to harbour this emotion, being forced to share it and not have the other know why…it was too much. Taking a moment to compose herself, she confronted her past. There were no words. Just thoughts…

_Five years ago…this was my home. After the massacre, I moved from village to village and finally decided a city would be an ideal place to learn more skills and gain information about my enemy…I was thirteen years old… I had no home... I had no coin... I was no stranger to begging... so that is what I did._

_From home to home, I begged for a place to stay in return for whatever service I could offer… They all turned me away… all but two… Once family with a boy of my age offered me a bed out of pity…. The landlord of the Inn offered me a place to stay and means to earn some money._

Without hesitation, I took the position at the Inn… The landlord's name was Kennit… He seemed warm and kind and accommodating…he welcomed me into his home and closed the door...I was deceived… I soon discovered that he wasn't all that he had seemed.

_He had me working by his side day and night. I was a slave to his trade…forced to take drinks and platters to rowdy and perverted men, cooking and cleaning… The work was a strain…too much for a young girl… but I never complained… Complaints and disobedience were rewarded by being locked in the cellar…. I was locked down there once…I was terrified of the dark and the scratching of things that I could feel but could not see… I wouldn't allow myself to be locked down there again. _

_Unfortunately disobedience was related to other things… such as not allowing him to touch me… The first time I tried to stop him, he beat severely… always in places that were easily hidden… Of course he beat me when I let him touch me too… He liked to see me cry when he…_

Her thought trailed off, as she could not find the courage to say the words. Murtagh's anger and hatred filled her being. It was as if her anguish was his. But instead of pity, he felt fury. He wanted to find the man and kill the swine.

…I lived like this for six months… It was a dark time… But I had one friend… Jacob… And although I was never permitted to speak of the acts… he knew… He saw the bruises… He saw how I recoiled from Kennitt and the customers… Although I never admitted it, he had guessed.

_I asked him not to get involved… After all… who would believe the word of a child over the word of an adult?… I suffered in silence… I found ways to live with myself… I told myself that this was nothing… It was only my body…Only a shell… It didn't matter… My family had suffered worse…. Maybe it was penance for me being alive when I should have been dead?_

Without warning, Murtagh stopped and pierced her look that would have made anyone else uneasy. Lia didn't even blink.

Don't say that… Don't even think that 

Reasoning from all those years ago caused emotion to swell inside her. When she glanced up at him, her eyes were that of the thirteen-year-old girl that she had been. She released his arm. He made no effort to stop her. They stood in the middle of the street, side by side…staring at each other with sombre expressions on their faces. A few passers by gave them an odd glance.

_I don't think it… not now… but back then... that was how I felt…_

You just accepted your fate? You did nothing to stop him ra… 

Unable to finish the sentence, he bit down on the inside of his lips and stared at her in undisguised horror. She averted his eyes but when she met them again, there was a malicious sparkle.

Oh… I never said that… Time passed… I was convinced this was my new life…when Jacob approached me with a proposition… It was simple really… We would kill him… He offered to slit his throat, but I did not want him to end up on the gallows for protecting me…. So, we settled for a more subtle approach…. poison…it was his idea… he said that he once met a herbalist named Angela and she had told him of a plant that in the right quantity could kill a grown man in less than twenty four hours with the symptoms of a heart attack…

Recognition to the name shone in Murtagh's eyes as he interrupted her story.

Angela… 

_You know her?_

_I have heard of her_

_She is one of the greatest herbalists that has ever lived_

_I understood that she is a witch of sorts_

_A witch?…no…but she certainly possesses gifts of sorts that are somewhat unexplainable_

_You speak as if you have met her?_

_Of course I have.. Whether by fate or accident. Our paths crossed a few years later. I gave her my thanks. She gave me knowledge. A stranger lady does not exist.. but neither does a wiser nor more admirable…I owe her much_

_How did you poison Kennit?_

_It was easy… Jacob made the necessary preparations… He gathered the plants, boiled them and provided me with the essence… It smelled sweet… like my revenge… I prepared him a herbal tea…. He drank it down and had one last way with me and then went to sleep... The following morning, the inn was busy…. He was filling up mugs of ale when he clutched his chest, thrashed on the floor and died… It was so sudden…I would have enjoyed watching him suffer a great deal more…but justice was served…And of course, everyone seemed heartbroken… That was the hardest part… Pretending I was upset… Crying wasn't hard… But they were tears of relief… I attended his funeral and then proclaimed that out of grief, I would leave… _

_Jacob escorted me to the stables and pressed a bog of coins in my palm… The money I would have earned had I actually been paid… He gave me his horse and bid me farewell… That was the last time I saw him and this place… And from that moment forth, I learned how to take care of myself and never let anyone take advantage of me again…_

Murtagh studied her, letting his eyes take in everything that she had become. It seemed unnatural that one such as herself could possess a past so hellishly unthinkable. But then his thoughts trailed off to his own and he remembered the sad, yet sure fact that life experiences mould people into who and what they become. How people react to events and the choices they make- whether to fight or fly- these determine the end result.

She was what life had made her: fierce, strong, cold, determined and yet loyal, caring and plagued by her past. Her eyes told her story. The eyes of someone who had seen too much, too soon and over too little time. The eyes of someone that had loved, been loved and lost. The eyes of someone who found it difficulty to trust anyone but herself and her own instincts.

Looking into those eyes was almost like gazing into his own. Although his experiences presented a different kind of horror, his feelings were similar to her own. Was this why she had opened up to him? She had never spoken of her past before, that much was apparent. Her cheeks that were normally flushed with colour, were pale. And though her eyes still emanated that energy that was unique to her, there was something hidden so deep that he almost didn't catch sight of it.

Maybe he hadn't. Maybe it was her emotions entwining with his. But he saw her shame. Unmistakable. Undeniable. Shame that had been there all along. Shame that everyone had been too blind to see. It was wrong, She should not have felt this way. Not for so long. Whether it was her feeling or his, the injustice filled him with sorrow, before a cold determination took hold of him.

He felt a bizarre urge to reach out to her. A hand to the shoulder? A brief touch? He did neither. Unaccustomed to tender moments, he was uncomfortable and uncertain as to how to act. And then there was the question of her pride and honour. To make contact would be a gesture directed to the child within her. The implications of such an attempt would damage everything that she had worked to achieve.

She was no longer a child. She did not need the reassurance. Or so she may have thought. He would respect her need for physical distance. But there were always words. Words were never his strong point. He knew how to be charming when the occasion arose. He knew how to outwit, to insult, to deceive, curse and joke. But matters of sensitivity were alien to him? Fearful of what he might say if he tried to hard, he thought the first words that came into his mind.

This shame.. it is not yours to bear… 

Lia watched his face intently after her story was complete. He seemed to look at her in such a way that left he feeling open and vulnerable and yet, she let him. He was sizing her up. He was taking in all that he had just learned and he was assessing the by-product of the events. His emotions were changing too fast for her to keep track of and then he spoke seven words inside her head.

Seven words that she had needed to hear so many times before. Seven words that almost seemed to have cleansed her soul. Seven words that made her feel a rush of gratitude so deep, that she was afraid she might forget who she was and weep. She would do no such thing. She closed the fingers of her right hand. In turn, Murtagh balled his left into a fist and warmth tingled through both their palms. It was odd. It was almost like the hold of an invisible hand, if only for a few seconds. Then it was gone. Lia gave him a mysterious look.

_Life…destiny...they are unpredictable…I have carried this with me for so many years…of all the people to tell… I never would have guessed it to be you…_

_I know now what to say…_

_Then say nothing…not everything requires words…_

His eyes moved to his tunic and his hands twitched uncertainly.

_We both carry scars from our past…both mental and physical…_

Lifting his tunic, Lia was once more presented with the view of his torso and the thick, log scar that marked his side. Inwardly, she winced. Externally, she remained calm, but her lips tightened. Reaching out a hand, she extended a finger and lightly ran it over the surface of the scar. A movement so intimate that he inhaled sharply, but did not recoil. Goosebumps ran down his flesh and he held his breath. She felt the different texture of the scar tissue beneath her finger as she contemplated how such a wound had been inflicted. When she withdrew her hand, he exhaled and pulled his tunic back down, covering himself.

_That is an old wound.. very old.. was it a sword?_

The very same that the Rider wields… You mean? Za' roc? Your father? He……Murtagh… 

His name, she whispered so softly, he barely heard her. So Morzan's evil knew no end. The monster hadn't even spared his child. Disgust and betrayal, fresh and new joined with her own. It was comforting to be able to share a common emotion.

A present from my father… he was drunk… he resented my existence... he threw his sword at me…

He tried to kill his own son...

After that, my mother made sure that I stayed out of his way... Although I needed no help... it was a pleasure, I can assure you…

_He could have killed you…_

He nearly did. Had I not been taken to a healer so quickly I would have died from an infection.. the wound was deep…

At least you had a mother who loved you… 

_She did not.._

_But she…_

She abandoned me! One day she left! She was gone for months! She told no one! When she returned it was too late…

_What happened?.. why?_

She was dead... Whether by my father's or her own hand… no one knows. My guess is the latter…. Either way, she left… she didn't give a damn about me… But I learned not to care… I made my own life... and Galbatorix took an interest in me…

Lia frowned, but listened; intrigued. Did she want to hear his next words? No…but yes. She had to know what happened next.

Why? 

I do not know... Perhaps solely on the basis that I am the son of my father… But he made a great show of "fathering" me… He would invite me to dine with him... Invite me to sit and talk… He told me that I had potential and he shared with me his dreams… He had a way with words that was convincing… that was until I heard of his ransacking and murdering entire villages... Until I heard that despite my father committing all the murderous deeds, they were upon the King's order. Then I ran…

_How did you escape?_

It was easy... I just took Tornac and some provisions and fled... Remaining undetected… That was the challenge.

_When did you run?_

_Two years ago_

_And since then?_

The same as you my lady… I have been travelling, learning and searching for a means to save our Empire.

There was a moment of silence. As Murtagh has needed time to process the facts that she had presented to him, it was now her turn. He had suffered. He had been neglected, unloved and mauled a child. Despite all her own trauma, she had fond memories of a happy childhood. Unable to fathom what damage his upbringing must have cost him, she could only shake her head.

And what of Galbatorix? After two years, why would her still seek him? There must be a reason - either one that he himself was not aware of or unwilling to accept. It was a disturbing concept, but one she would put aside. For all that Galbatorix may or may not have hoped, Murtagh had chosen to be on the side of good. That was all that mattered.

_You escaped…and you stayed here?_

_For a short while_

_When?_

_A year ago_

_How was your stay?_ , she asked with a humorous undertone

_Eventful as always_, he replied with a smile, which she returned 

They had been stood there for a long time. Just staring at each other, conversing though their minds. As their tales came to an end, Murtagh glanced around. Two guards were marching down the street; they seemed to pay extra attention to every person they passed. This was not a promising sign. Lia felt his unease.

_What is it?_

_Guards..they're looking for someone_

_It could be anyone._

_Or it could be Eragon...or myself_

_What do you suggest we do?_

_I'm thinking…_

_We can back track. Find a place to hide._

It's too late for that. They have just caught sight of us. To suddenly disappear would only look suspicious…

We don't want to draw attention to ourselves… 

_I can't risk them seeing me…_

_They're getting closer and we're just standing here and saying nothing…_

I have an idea… 

_What?_

Do you trust me? 

_Is this is the time for this conversation?_

_Answer the question?_

_Yes, I trust you!_

_Then kiss me_

_What?!_

_It's the only way!_

_Nonsense! I could beat your face to a pulp...rearrange your face for you…all you have to do is ask me nicely!_

_Oh I see… is the lady afraid she might enjoy it?_

_I'd sooner kiss Tornac!_

If we get out of this alive, I'll be sure to present you with the opportunity and you will have my blessing!

Growling under her breath, she muttered " Rider! The things I endure for you!"

Whisking her off her feet, he pinned her against the wall of the nearest building and gave her a comical raise of an eyebrow before taking her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes and played the part. The guards passed, avoided staring at them, but coughed meaningfully.

"Oy you two! They have special places to do things like that! Behave yourselves!"

Murtagh broke away from the kiss and buried his face in her shoulder, but spoke loudly for all to hear.

"I apologise officers. I fear I cannot control myself when I am with her!"

Lia tried to look suitably embarrassed. It was not a challenge. Her blush looked real. But the colour was from the fury building up inside of her. The soldiers laughed and walked away, as if this kind of behaviour was perfectly acceptable.

When they had passed, Murtagh lifted his head from her shoulder and backed away with a triumphant grin. Smoothing out the front of her cloak, she stepped away from the wall, narrowed her eyes threateningly and returned by his side. He reached out a hand. She ignored it. He laughed.

_Oh… so my lady WAS impressed!_

His laughter boomed inside her head. Like a buzzing, annoying insect, she wanted to swat him out of her mind.

My goodness, the size of your ego is astounding! 

_I merely know what I am good at…I have been complimented in the past…_

_Really? Well I will let you in on a small home truth…they lied…_

Murtagh scowled. Lia grinned. In a somewhat lighter mood, they walked on and the city centre came into view. The place was swarming with activity. It was market day. Stalls of all kinds were open and traders were selling their wares. Crowds of people from all walks of life ambled from one stall to the next, eyeing the goods with greed. And past the market square, a large, looming and depressing building rose from the ground. The prison. Lia heard her stomach rumble and was reminded that she had not eaten since morning. Murtagh stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out some coins.

"This is all I have"

Lia dug into her own pockets and pulled out a further few coins. They stared at their combined funds; unimpressed. Murtagh shrugged.

"If this is what we have, this is what he have… we can only buy what we can afford"

"Agreed"

That settled, the approached the nearest bread stall and bought two fresh loaves. With what little of their coin remained, they managed to purchase a small portion of dried meat and a wedge of cheese. Wrapping their provisions in a bundle, Murtagh carried them under one arm. Having finished this part of their task, they edged away from the hustle and bustle of the square and down the long straight road to the prison. It was an eerie walk. The houses that lined the road grew darker, smaller and more sinister every step of the way. Small dark alleys joined onto this one road, each looking shadier than the last.

Reaching inside his cloak, Murtagh pulled out an apple and began to polish it against his sleeve. Lia gave the apple a quick glance before reaching into her own cloak and withdrawing a freshly baked bun. Taking a large satisfying bite out of the apple, Murtagh let the juice run down the side of his mouth. Lia innocently took a small bite out of her own food. Murtagh stared ahead, but said matter-of-factly.

_You know… stealing is a hanging offence…_

_Old habits die-hard…_

_We do enjoy living dangerously…_

Conversation died as they fell into the shadow of the prison. Keeping a safe distance, they stopped at the edge of the alleyway by the last house. Leaning against the wall casually, they let their eyes move from the base of the cold, stone building, to it's very top. It had a few windows. The place looked impregnable. There seemed to be the one door leading in and out. Shaking her head,

Lia sighed.

_This doesn't look promising…_

_Maybe something will happen to our advantage?_

They observed the scene. A group of guards exited the door, dressed from head to toe in garb parading the King's seal. They stood in a line outside and seemed to await something or someone. Murtagh frowned and inched closer to the wall. Shortly afterwards, a single dark, hooded figure emerged from the building. The figure faced the line of guards and began speaking in a hushed voice, when suddenly, all went quiet. The figure had his back to them, but he turned his head a fraction. All that could be seen was a single lock of red hair protruding from beneath the hood. That was enough. Murtagh grabbed Lia's hand and dragged her down the alley.

Run! 

_What's wrong?_

_Don't talk! Just run!_

Following his lead, they ran through a series of back alleys until finally, puffing and panting, they reached the stables where they quickly re-saddled Tornac and Snowfire and raced through the streets and out of the city gates. Up on the hill, Saphira was the first to witness their return. She let out a low, rumbling growl that caused Eragon to sit up, alert.

_What is it Saphira?_

_They are coming. They look like they ran into trouble._

After a few minutes, the trampling of hooves became louder and were finally accompanied by the sight of Murtagh and Lia; their faces red from their desperate flee. Murtagh leapt off Tornac and hastily began to pick up Eragon's belongings and shoving them into Snowfire's saddlebags. Lia unquestioningly followed his actions. Eragon rolled onto his feet, awaiting an explanation.

"What happened?"

"We have to go now… it's not safe…forget about her Rider"

"I can't!"

"It's a trap!" Murtagh snapped and Eragon fell silent. Lia stopped what she was doing and stared from one to the other.

"It can't be…"

"Trust me Rider…the place is crawling with the King's personal guard and his Shade!"

"Durza?"

"The very same…if you go walk in there…if you try and free her…it will be suicide…the very fact that you dream about this place and they happen to be here is no coincidence…they are waiting for you Rider!"

"Then I won't disappoint them…"

Exasperated, Murtagh hurled the contents from the saddlebag back onto the ground and yelled in anger.

"You fool! The Empire needs you! The people need you! And you throw it all away! You would throw it all away for this wretched girl!?"

"I would do it for any of you…"

"Sacrifices have to be made Rider! For the good of the many!"

"I do not hold you here Murtagh…you can go as you please…but I am staying…I will find a way to get her and I will free her… with or without your help…"

Throwing his hands in the air, Murtagh stormed away and stood with his hands linked behind his head, glaring across at the sun setting across the land. He heard soft footsteps. He knew it was Lia. Feeling his aggression, she waited for him to speak. He didn't make her wait long.

"He is a damn idiot!"

"I know…"

"He's going to get himself killed!"

"I know…"

"And he known damn well that we won't abandon him!"

Although he could not see her, he knew that a small smile had crossed her lips.

"Then you know that instead of cursing the heavens, we should try and find a way to help him"

"He doesn't understand… we are up against a Shade"

"If the Ra' Zac didn't stop him in Dras Leona…"

"They could have!"

"But they didn't…and do you know why?"

"Because of me…"

"Exactly. And this time, he has us both and Saphira. We may have a chance yet"

"The Ra' Zac are monsters, not sorcerers. We are out of our league"

"Maybe we will be lucky"

"Do you honestly believe that?"

"I have to"

"And I can't leave either of you… damn you both to hell…you leave me no choice…"

"Life is cruel," she added with a forced laugh and hard slap on his back.

At her words he turned and exhaled deeply, letting his shoulders slump and together, they walked back to where Eragon and Saphira sat. Eragon knew what had been decided, but wanted to hear their words all the same. Murtagh sat down heavily and fixed Eragon with a hostile expression.

"Do not give me that look Rider… you know I have to see your sorry arse get to the Varden even if it gets me killed"

Eragon laughed and nodded gratefully.

"You are too kind…and what of you Lia?"

"I stay"

"Then we should eat…rest…and revise our plans in the morning"

"You two sleep…I cannot", Murtagh admitted without fear of sounding cowardly.

"You worry too much Murtagh…we do not yet know what the morning will bring"

"The feeling of a rope around my neck springs to mind…"

Eating their simple meals, they sat in silence, as the sky grew darker. Lia lit a small fire. Eragon curled up by Saphira's side and fell asleep as if it were the easiest task in the world. Lia took her usual first watch, but Murtagh did not show any signs of letting sleep take him. Dark rings circled his eyes. His lids began to droop, but every time they were at risk of closing, they would snap back open. He stared at the flames intently, as if they would fight away the drowsiness. Lia nudged him with her foot and he tilted his head.

_Get some sleep…_

_I cannot…_

_You won't be any use to either of us if you do not rest_

_We shouldn't be here…if they're waiting for us, then they know that we are here…_

_Maybe they do not…_

_Durza will know…_

_You do not know that…_

_He felt me…_

_When?_

_At the prison…he knew I was there…_

_Are you sure?_

_Yes…_

_This changes things…_

_This changes nothing…that stubborn fool wouldn't change his mind if Galbatorix and an army of Urgals were waiting outside!_

_I fear you are right…_

An uncomfortable silence grew. And then a cold breeze swept over them. Pulling their cloaks tighter across themselves, they began to shiver. Lia felt her teeth begin to chatter. Murtagh's lips turned blue. A small pit of fear started to fester inside them. Lia glanced at Saphira and Eragon, who were asleep, but shifting uncomfortably.

Murtagh wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled them into his chest, trying to keep the warmth in. Lia found herself rocking back and forth to keep her blood circulating. But regardless of what they tried, it seemed to get colder and the fear gnawed at them and threatened to eat them alive. It didn't stop. The torment escalated and when they could bear it no longer, it was over. Everything went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 

They had been walking down the beaten path between the farm and Carvahall at a casual pace, when Roran grabbed Eragon, locked his head in an arm lock and rubbed his head roughly with the knuckles of his hand. Struggling, Eragon broke free and tried to smooth his hair. Roran smirked.

"Did I mess up your hair cousin?"

"Yes!"

"If it's any consolation, it makes little difference. You are still as ugly as ever"

"You are one to talk!"

"Face it Eragon! I'm the handsome one! What can I say? Katrina knows a man when she sees one"

"She may need her eye sight tested"

"Oh dear… concern about your appearance…leaping to your own defence…you must really want to impress this girl?"

"I don't want to impress her…I want to save her"

"Well you won't have to wait long… we're nearly there"

"Don't be ridiculous! We're heading towards the village!"

"Does that look like the village to you?"

Roran stopped and pointed into the distance. Eragon froze. Instead of Carvahall, there lay a crude imitation of Gil' Ead, cloaked in a thick blanket of fog. Swallowing hard, he coughed in discomfort.

"No…"

"Are you ready… are you ready to walk in there and get her out?"

"No… but I have to"

"That's my boy!"

He slapped his cousin's shoulder in a brotherly way. Eragon staggered to the side from the impact, before righting himself and staring at Roran curiously.

"Then why are you here?"

"Me?… I'm just walking you to the front gate… after that, you're on your own"

"I would never ask you to follow where I go"

"I would go with you if I could"

"Let's go… before I change my mind"

"You won't"

Resuming their walk along the dirt path, a silence enveloped them. The sun beat down on them from above, and yet, a chill seemed to rise from the ground. Assuming that this was a simple dream abnormality, Eragon chose to ignore it. Roran, however, did not. Stomping his feet, he tried to beat back the cold. But as the iciness ascended through their vulnerable bodies, reaching chest level, Roran stopped and turned around.

"…Roran?"

"Can't you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"I don't know what it is exactly…"

"Very helpful…"

"It's just… something is following us…"

Glancing behind them, Eragon scoped the path. All was clear. But all was quiet. Unnaturally so. It was just a dream. What did it matter? But Roran's concern was real and Eragon could feel the first pangs of paranoia infest his mind. The chill that hadn't bothered him before suddenly bit into his skin, causing a painful rush of goosebumpes to race across his arms. Rubbing them furiously, he was determined to keep walking.

"Well, I can't see anything… it's just your imagination"

"Eragon…"

A cold fear that Eragon had never seen before, shone in his cousin's eyes, as they gazed around like cornered rabbit. Placing a hand on Roran's elbow, he tried to turn him around, but his gesture was greeted with a terrified stare.

"They are coming!"

"Who are coming? What are you talking about?!"

"I don't know! I can't see them but…"

All the colour drained from his face. His lips began to tremble, but he stood in front of Eragon protectively.

"…they are here"

"Where?"

"They are here…"

"Why are we still standing here…let us leave?!"

"They won't let us escape… they want you"

"Me?"

"I can't stop them…they are too powerful"

"You must run! Leave me! Roran, please go!"

"I will not leave you cousin!"

"Roran! Please!"

"Take my hand…"

"Why?"

"Just take my hand!"

"Roran… you… you are not real…"

Unable to think of any other reason to persuade his cousin to leave, admitting the truth was all that he had left. The words pierced his heart. His last private sanctuary. This one place where all remained perfect and well. With a few words he had destroyed it. How does one tell a dream that it is a dream without waking and never returning again? Bitterness filled him at the thought. But dream or not, he would not see Roran suffer. Roran smiled at him sadly and reached out his hand.

"Don't be so sure…"

Eragon's heart leapt at the implication, but hit rock bottom as an impending feeling of certain death attacked him from all angles. Before he could fight it, Roran grabbed his hand and held it tightly. Eragon squeezed the hand, not wanting to ever let go.

The moment was short lived. Three sets of black gloved hands burst through the soil by his feet and grabbed hold of his legs. With one hard pull, he was dragged waist deep into the earth. Roran fell to his knees, trying to pull him back out. Eragon cried out in pain as Roran tugged harder, but to no avail.

"Leave me! You cannot help me! Please! Go! Be safe!"

"Damn you cousin! I want to save you, but I fear I will pull your arm off like a wing from a fly!"

One more jerk from below the ground had Eragon's head, shoulders and one arm left protruding from the ground. Roran gnashed his teeth together and roared in anger. Eragon met his eyes and nodded. Roran understood. As Roran let go of his hand, he removed something from his pocket and placed it in Eragon's palm. Eragon closed his fist around the object. It was small, smooth, circular in shape and cool to touch.

"What is it?"

"My engagement ring for Katrina…"

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because when I find you, I can get it back"

"But Roran!"

Roran tried to smile. Eragon was about to say more, when with a final tug of his lower body, he was pulled into the darkness of the unknown. The last thing he saw was his cousin's determined face and the love in his eyes. Then he knew no more.

Lia was falling. Falling and falling through a pit so black and seemingly endless, she felt as if she were going to remain here until the end of her days. Despite her panic. Despire her terror. Her palm began to tingle and she remembered. She remembered Murtagh. She did not know where she was. She did not know where he was. But she had to find him. If he was in danger, she had to know. With all her effort, she reached out for him. Nothing happened and then in this pit of eternal night, there was an explosion of blinding white light and then it was gone.

An eerie glow appeared from no where and shone down upon two figures standing side by side, hand in hand. A young girl and a small boy. The girl looked down upon the boy and the boy stared up at her, puzzled. Neither had ever met and yet here they were in this awful place, holding hands as if they were acquainted. Both had an urge to release their hold, but in their current circumstance, there was a great comfort in this touch.

The girl had a tired face, but she was pretty and when the smallest hint of a polite smile tugged at her lips, the boy knew that she was a good person.

"What is your name little boy?"

"I'm not little! I am eight years old!" the boy said defensively.

Trying hard to look apologetic, the girl fought back a grin.

"I apologise young man. Forgive me. Let me introduce myself. My name is Lia. I am thirteen years old. I am pleased to meet you"

"My name is Murtagh…Lia is a pretty name… are you a maid at the house?"

"House? No…I…I work at an Inn"

"Where are we?"

"I don't know…"

"How did we get here?"

"I don't know…"

"It's very dark in here…"

"Are you afraid young man?"

Little Murtagh puffed up his chest and scowled, despite the fear in his eyes. Young Lia felt a sense of pride towards the boy. Most children would have been reduced to a blubbering wreck. This boy had courage. Maybe even more than her own, but she would never let him know that.

"I'm not afraid of anything! I'll protect you lady!"

"I am honoured"

Lia laughed nervously. Murtagh smiled. He was terrified on the inside, but he knew he had to be brave. There was something about this lady that seemed familiar. He liked her already and that itself was strange. He liked only a few. Most nannies and maids showed little interest in him. This girl was… nice.

A gust of wind caused the both to cautiously turn their heads. There was a door. It was tall, made of finely carved wood, with a golden handle and ornate carvings. They walked towards it and stopped in its shadow. Murtagh reached forward and ran his fingers over the raised patterns. Looking over his shoulder and up at Lia, his eyes widened in excitement.

"I know this door! It belongs in my home!"

"Well…it's s door…and it looks like the only way out"

"Come!…we'll be safe…then you can meet my mother and I can tell her to hire you as my maid!"

"That is a generous and kind offer…but first things first…let us see what is through this door…"

"Yes…let's see"

Nodding, they both touched the handle and turned it. There was a loud creak and the door slowly opened to reveal a long, brightly coloured hallway. Murtagh glanced up at Lia and beamed. Lia smirked.

"Let me guess? Home sweet home?"

"Yes. This is my house"

"Well that didn't seem difficult?"

"See! I told you I'd save you! I like you! Come! Let's find my mother!"

"Maybe I should just leave…I am not sure I am welcome in a place like this…"

"Don't be silly! I want you to stay! Please come with me! Pleeeeaaaassse?"

Biting down on her lip nervously, Lia gazed at her surroundings. This was no ordinary house. Whatever family this child belonged to was wealthy. Very wealthy. She was only a girl that worked in an Inn. People of this status did not look kindly on folks such as herself entering their home uninvited. However, the child was insistent and there was something about him that made her feel responsible for his wellbeing.

She would see him safe before making her way back from wherever she was. As they stepped through the doorway, the door slammed shut and locked itself behind them. Murtagh didn't pay the occurrence much heed, but Lia frowned before she was pulled along by the hand by this small boy.

At the end of the corridor was a door. Murtagh raised a hand to knock, stopped and pressed his ear against it. Lia needed to do no such thing. She could hear the noises loud and clear and with every step she took, her common sense screamed at her to leave. Murtagh backed away from the door with a disappointed look.

"My father is home. He's a playing a game with mother. I'm never allowed to play. It's a very noisy game, is it not?"

Lia tried hard not to listen to the grunts, moans and creaks coming from behind the closed door.

"Hmm… quite…"

In a blink of an eye, he had ran past her and headed to a table close by. Upon the table lay a red cushion. Atop the cushion was a beautiful sword. Reaching for the handle was the young boy. A lump rose in Lia's throat as he gripped the hilt in both hands and held it in front of him with a look of glee.

"I don't think that is such a good idea…"

"Why? It belongs to my father?"

"And does he normally let you play with his sword?"

Murtagh didn't answer, but turned his back to her. Not a promising sign. She was no stranger to children. In a brighter time, she had had a younger sister. To forbid him would only encourage him further. Basic reasoning would be her tool to make him put the ghastly weapon down.

"Murtagh…if someone sees you playing with that thing and that I stood here and let you, they will force me to leave. Do you want me to leave and never be able to return or do you want me to stay so that we can play our own games?"

There was a moment of hesitation before he slowly lowered the sword and turned to replace it on the table. Lia sighed in relief. A cold voice came from behind her, causing Muragh to drop the sword in fright and Lia to cast her eyes to the ground.

"Brat…"

From her restricted view, Lia saw the lower half of a grown man. Bare legs. Bare feet. A bed sheet hastily wrapped around his middle. An empty bottle hanging limply from one hand. The stench of ale strong on his breath. He staggered past her and headed for the boy. Raising her eyes only slightly, she watched Murtagh and saw how he shamefully avoided her gaze.

His father picked up his sword and began to pace back and forth, although stumble would have been a more appropriate word.

"You dropped my sword…"

"Father… I…"

"Silence!…You speak only when you are spoken to… until I demand it, you keep your mouth shut!"

Silence from the boy. Silence from Lia. Why hadn't he blamed her? How was she still standing here and bearing witness to this behaviour. Fear kept her rooted to the spot. Fear for her own welfare and fear for the boy.

"Every time… Every time I come, I order you not to touch it… This sword is worth more than your very existence… You are not worthy. You will never be worthy… You disgust me… That pretty face… Those scrawny arms… The way your mother mollycoddles you… You are no son of mine… You are a disgrace… You sicken me with your very appearance and the sound of your voice… You are a curse… The bane of my existence… My shame… Am I making myself clear? Answer me?"

"…yes father"

"Do not offend me with that word! You will call me "sir"!"

"…yes sir…"

"Say it…say you are worthless!"

Lia tried with all her strength not to raise her head and bellow at the sadistic man. With any luck, he would soon leave and she could attempt to counsel the child. No matter how badly she wished to stop this behaviour, she could not. Such an action would be a crime. She could be whipped, beaten and if he indeed were as drunk as he appeared, he could have her arrested and locked away.

Staying silent, she tried to meet Murtagh's eyes. To tell him with a look that he was no worthless, but in order to make it all stop, he would have to do as he was told. Her eyes returned to the floor. The boy's cheeks burned, but he muttered quietly.

"I am worthless…"

"Yes…yes you are…"

The man began to walk away. He stopped with his back to the boy by Lia's side. Lia prayed that he would move faster. When he stopped, she held her breath-half in fear and half to keep his drunk and sweat mingled stink at bay.

"You know… I am a fair man…do you want this sword?"

Murtagh raised his head and eyed the blade in wonder, before thinking better of it and shaking his head.

"No sir"

"But you must want it…"

"I do not want it sir"

"But you handle it at every opportunity, therefore I must deduce that you are lying to me"

"I will not touch it anymore sir"

"I have an idea. Let us play a game.. you and I. It's simple. If you catch the sword, you win. If you don't, I win. Are the rules easy enough? Good…"

"Sir… I…"

The sentence was never completed, for the moment the man finished stating his rules, he had spun around and thrown his sword.

Murtagh stared at him curiously and noticed that the sword was no longer in his father's hand. He wanted to speak, when he tasted something tangy and a damp, thick substance trickled from his lips. He touched his mouth and lowered his eyes to examine his hand. On his fingers, there was blood. Sticking out of his side was the hilt of the sword. He gaped at it, before sinking to his knees. His father appeared in front of him, reached for the hilt and in one swift motion, dragged the blade out. He wiped the blood on the sheet wrapped around him and gave the boy a pitiful look, before stating, " I win" and walking away.

Only at the squelching sound of the sword being pulled from Murtagh and the gasp accompanied by it, did Lia look up. Murtagh was on his knees and swaying to his side. The man began to walk away. Not caring about her manners, she yelled," You bastard!" before running to Murtagh's small, damaged form, bleeding profusely. His eyelids fluttered and his lips bubbled with blood as he tried to speak. Lia put a finger to her lips and then touched his face.

"Ssssssh…don't try to speak…save your strength…you're a strong young man...you are going to be fine…Don't look down…I'm here…just…just don't close your eyes...you keep looking at me"

His eyes stayed trained on hers and she grabbed his hand. The moment their palms touched, they were thrown into darkness. Everything changed. No longer in the house and no longer on the floor, Lia stood with Murtagh cradled in her arms. The only source of light came from a door slightly ajar at the top of a flight of stone steps. Scurrying sounds of invisible rodents echoed in the silence. Lia felt something large and furry brush against her ankle. She held her position and closed her eyes, not wanting to leap in fear and drop the boy. A small, choked voice reached her ears.

"Where…are we?…Are…we safe?"

She knew exactly where they were. The cellar. They were inside the Inn. Avoiding the question, she attempted to give him a reassuring smile.

"I won't let anything happen to you…I will keep you safe"

Climbing the stairs, she slowly opened the door, which led to the kitchen. It was empty. Judging by the stash of pots to be cleaned and no food being prepared, it was late at night. Walking over to the large wooden table in the centre, Lia gently lay Murtagh down and gazed at her apron. She was covered in blood and he was still bleeding heavily. His face grew paler by the second and his breathing more ragged. Quickly removing her apron, she folded it and eased it underneath him, before tying it around his middle and over the wound to stop the blood flow. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he blinked rapidly. She brushed the hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

"I am going to fetch the best healer I can find and I will return. I promise. Stay awake. Please. Try not to move and just… don't close your eyes"

Bursting through the kitchen doors and into the Inn, the place was empty. She ran towards the front door. A booming voice called after her and she skidded to a halt.

"You know the rules! You can't leave unless I tell you to!"

She spun around and stared at him with pleading eyes and spoke quickly and desperately.

"I must! This boy is wounded! If I do not call a healer, he will die!"

"What are you talking about girl?!"

"Please! You must let me fetch a healer!"

"What boy?!"

"That boy!"

Shrieking, she pointed towards the kitchen door, which lay wide open, revealing Murtagh strewn across the table with eyes filled with pain and fear. Kennit stared at the kitchen before fixing her with a peculiar glare.

"Are you mad?"

"No! Dammit, the boy is right there on the blasted table!"

"Lia…there is no one there"

She glanced from Kennit to Murtagh and back to Kennitt again. Why couldn't he see the boy? Was this some sick joke that he found amusing?

"But he's right there! I can't just leave him to die! I promised him!"

Kennit took a step forward and lowered his voice to a serious whisper.

"Keep your voice down…you are going to upset the customers"

"The place is empty!"

A grubby hand gripped hold of her wrist and she yelped in shock as a gap toothed, greasy, fat and balding man seemed to appear out of thin air, sat in a chair behind her. He leered at her and smiled. His voice oily and slurred from too much ale.

"What a fine young girl.. what is your name my flower?"

"Her name is Lia and she was returning to her duties"

"She smells sweet and innocent…how much?"

"She is not for sale"

"Now now Kennit, everything has a price. How many years have we done business together? Play nice and share"

"I told you, she is not for sale. Lia, return to the kitchen. Now"

She tried to shake her arm out of his grasp, but his fingers closed even tighter. In the kitchen, Murtagh's eyes were beginning to close. He was fighting so hard, but he was losing. She saw his eyelids begin to droop even more and she struggled all the more harder. All that mattered was finding a healer. The more she struggled, the firmer the man held. Kennit rolled up his sleeves threateningly.

"You would be wise to let go of her this very instant"

"I'll name a price"

"You cannot have her"

"I'll give you fifty"

Kennit froze and considered the amount before eyeing Lia up and down.

"I will take seventy"

"Seventy?! You are a thieving swine!"

Leaning across the table Kennit clicked his tongue and grinned knowingly.

"You pay me seventy… I close the doors right now and you can have her…you can even beat her around a bit. I know you like to see them scream a little…But not the face…I need her able to work tomorrow…pay me. Now.You have her for an hour"

In answer, the main reached into his pocket and pulled out a money pouch. He tossed it on the table. Kennit smiled and headed towards the front doors. He pulled the bolt across the doors, locking them inside. Lia screamed out.

"No!!!!! He needs a healer! No! Let me go! Let me…"

Her screams were cut short as a fist connected with her stomach, sending her doubling over in pain and the air knocked out of her. Collapsing to her knees, she began to cough. A hand grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back. Crying out, she tried to catch a glimpse of Murtagh.

"Kennit. Get this girl a drink. She's going to need it!"

Laughing, Kennit headed into the kitchen, walked straight past Murtagh, grabbed a bottle and walked back out again. Lia began to whimper as she realised that she was in fact the only person that could see the boy. She was being restrained and forced to watch a small child die before her very eyes. Her own misfortune was of no consequence to her. It mattered not whether Kennitt could see him or not. She promised him. She struggled to her feet only to be pressed up against the table. She felt thick, greasy fingers grab her hands and pin them against the tabletop. She felt his bulk and his hardness press into her back. She opened her mouth to scream. No sound came out as her hands were released and a blade flashed before her eyes. The gruff voice of the stranger tickled her ear. The smell of his breath so rancid, she was forced to breathe through her mouth.

"Oh please… scream…scream all you like.. just give me a reason to cut you… I beg you…what?… no pleading?… clever girl… no body would believe you anyway… so play nice and do as you are told…and drink"

Kennit stood beside her and held the bottle before her. Whiskey. She did not want it. She ignored his offer and gazed helplessly at Murtagh. Her eyes widened. Her throat closed. A scream rose within her.

Murtagh was shivering now. His middle was soaked through. Whether from sweat or blood, he did not know. He did not care. It didn't matter. He was worthless. His father had disowned him. His father had hurt him. But Lia said she would keep him safe. He believed her. He watched as she appeared to be bullied by two old men. They didn't seem to notice him. He was glad. He was also confused. Why weren't they letting her leave? Why didn't they believe her? Why was she looking at him with such sorrow in her eyes? Didn't she know that he believed her? He knew she would keep him safe. He trusted her. He would lie here and wait like a good little boy. It wasn't difficult. He could barely feel a thing. The pain was almost gone. He felt numb. It was wonderful not to feel pain anymore. So sleepy. Maybe he could close his eyes. Just for a moment? She had told him not to, but maybe if he rested his eyelids just for a short while, he could keep them open for longer? The mere thought of closing his eyes sent a wave of relief flowing through him. Lia was staring at him. He tried to give her a small smile. To show her what a brave boy he was. He wanted to be a good boy for her. Drowsiness pulled at his eyelids. He let them close. Blissful release. His breathing became shallower and shallower. His small chest rose and fell until it didn't rise again. Whilst thinking of the games that they would play when he got better, he passed away.

The moment Lia saw his eyes close, she forgot about the threat and screamed at the top of her lungs in anguish.

"NO!!!!!! NO!!! NO!!!!! MURTAGH!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The old man took out his blade, but before he could use it, Kennit yelled.

"Put that away! And you girl, shut up and drink! DRINK!"

Her head was pulled backwards by one hand and her jaw was squeezed open by another. Kennit poured the contents of the bottle down her throat. When she tried to resist, she nearly choked. Giving in, she let the warm, fiery drink slide down her gullet, into her empty stomach and dull her senses against what was inevitably about to happen.

Murtagh jerked awake and gasped. There was a low throbbing in his side. But he was very much alive. The sun was beginning to rise into the sky. There was a sleeping dragon before him and cool grass beneath him. Exhaling deeply, he embraced reality and was thankful that it was only a nightmare. As if an echo from a distant time, he felt more than heard a scream. Lia. Lia! She was still stuck in there and those two men were about to…no...he wouldn't let it happen! Tossing his head from left to right, he searched for Lia. She lay a few feet away to his right, curled up in a foetal position and shaking like a leaf. Tears wet her cheeks and incoherent whimpering tumbled from her lips. Without a thought to his own safety, he lunged towards her and reached out both hands to shake her awake.

Her head began to spin and she found her hands holding the edge of the table for support. Kennit stood opposite her, leaned forward and held her hands in place. With a hard push, she was bent over the table. Her skirt was lifted from behind. Two rough and callused hands snaked their way up her thighs, reaching higher and higher. She squeezed her eyes shut and accepted her punishment. The boy was dead. It was her fault. She deserved this. All of this. The hands yanked her legs apart. She heard the fumbling of clothes being removed. She braced herself.

Grabbing her arm, Murtagh shook her. Nothing happened. He shook her even harder. Still nothing. Raising his hand, he swore, before slapping her hard across the cheek.

The back of her dress was ripped open, when she was suddenly returned to her sleeping form. The shock of her smarting face only added to her confusion. Forgetting who she now was, she flailed her arms and legs. One arm hit Murtagh on his side and he cried out, but he did not back away. Grabbing her arms and pulling her to a sitting position, he spoke sternly.

"Lia! Lia! It's me! Murtagh! It was only a nightmare! Lia! Please!…it's me…just…stop…stop and look…please!"

Daring to open her eyes, she saw him. She saw him and she remembered where they were, whom they were, why they were here and what had happened. Her vision was still blurry and things seemed to move on their own accord. Dizziness and nausea took hold of her.

"Murtagh?…I...it…that…how?"

"It was the Ra'zac…I won't explain it now...but it was just a bad dream"

"Then why do I feel so … drunk… and…oh…oh no…you're…you're bleeding!…I…let me up…I need to get up…I need to see to your wound!"

"No! Stay down…you need to rest!"

"No! Let me up! I promised you!…I…"

He let her get to her feet. She managed two steps before falling to her hands and knees and vomiting violently. Without a word, he moved towards her and rested a hand on the small of her back. She rolled onto her side and he pushed her hair away from her clammy forehead. She was hung over an exhausted and still in a state of shock. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his and they were scared.

"Show me…show me your scar…"

Unsure whether he himself wanted to see the damage, he lifted his tunic and through glassy eyes, Lia squinted as she analysed the wound with a single look. She sighed and managed a slight smile, for which he was grateful.

"It is a small cut…it's nothing…I will get he salve"

"I can do it myself…"

"But…"

"Lia…rest"

"I…I don't want to… what if…"

"You won't. They won't. It's over. I'm here…"

"Where is Eragon and how is Saphira?"

He glanced at Saphira and indeed noticed that Eragon was missing, although shamefully, he had not noticed until she had stated the fact.

"We will worry about that after you rest"

"Promise me you'll wake me…wake me if…"

"Just rest… I promise"

She closed her eyes and the first thing she felt was his presence. Not only was he watching over her, but he was with her. Inside. Drifting into sleep, she felt his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her eyes and heard him whisper, "Now it's my turn to keep you safe". She drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Eragon opened his eyes. The moment his consciousness had been returned to him, he had known he was somewhere else. A cold, hard floor lay beneath him. The air was thick with the small of damp and there was a dripping noise breaking the silence, along with the pattering of small feet. Probably a rodent of some description. He had lay like this for some minutes. Now it was time to act.

He was in a cell. It was dark. It was cold. The only source of light coming from a small grate in the wall. Leaping up, he grabbed the bars and hoisted himself upwards. His view was of a street. He could see the feet of people passing by and strangers walking on the other side. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to know where he was. He was in Gil' Ead. He was caught. Murtagh had been right. Instinctively, he tried to reach for Saphira. She wasn't there. He had known that she wasn't before he had tried. Her presence that was always with him was gone. The loneliness he had felt told him all that he needed to know. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. If he were going to get out of this place, it would be down to him and him only. He gritted his teeth. There was a cluttering sound. He turned around. A tray with food had been shoved through a small flap in the door. His stomach grumbled. If he were going to plan, he would need to eat. He walked towards the door. He bent down to pick up the tray. A bitter, female voice stopped his hand in mid air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 

They had been walking down the beaten path between the farm and Carvahall at a casual pace, when Roran grabbed Eragon, locked his head in an arm lock and rubbed his head roughly with the knuckles of his hand. Struggling, Eragon broke free and tried to smooth his hair. Roran smirked.

"Did I mess up your hair cousin?"

"Yes!"

"If it's any consolation, it makes little difference. You are still as ugly as ever"

"You are one to talk!"

"Face it Eragon! I'm the handsome one! What can I say? Katrina knows a man when she sees one"

"She may need her eye sight tested"

"Oh dear… concern about your appearance…leaping to your own defence…you must really want to impress this girl?"

"I don't want to impress her…I want to save her"

"Well you won't have to wait long… we're nearly there"

"Don't be ridiculous! We're heading towards the village!"

"Does that look like the village to you?"

Roran stopped and pointed into the distance. Eragon froze. Instead of Carvahall, there lay a crude imitation of Gil' Ead, cloaked in a thick blanket of fog. Swallowing hard, he coughed in discomfort.

"No…"

"Are you ready… are you ready to walk in there and get her out?"

"No… but I have to"

"That's my boy!"

He slapped his cousin's shoulder in a brotherly way. Eragon staggered to the side from the impact, before righting himself and staring at Roran curiously.

"Then why are you here?"

"Me?… I'm just walking you to the front gate… after that, you're on your own"

"I would never ask you to follow where I go"

"I would go with you if I could"

"Let's go… before I change my mind"

"You won't"

Resuming their walk along the dirt path, a silence enveloped them. The sun beat down on them from above, and yet, a chill seemed to rise from the ground. Assuming that this was a simple dream abnormality, Eragon chose to ignore it. Roran, however, did not. Stomping his feet, he tried to beat back the cold. But as the iciness ascended through their vulnerable bodies, reaching chest level, Roran stopped and turned around.

"…Roran?"

"Can't you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"I don't know what it is exactly…"

"Very helpful…"

"It's just… something is following us…"

Glancing behind them, Eragon scoped the path. All was clear. But all was quiet. Unnaturally so. It was just a dream. What did it matter? But Roran's concern was real and Eragon could feel the first pangs of paranoia infest his mind. The chill that hadn't bothered him before suddenly bit into his skin, causing a painful rush of goosebumpes to race across his arms. Rubbing them furiously, he was determined to keep walking.

"Well, I can't see anything… it's just your imagination"

"Eragon…"

A cold fear that Eragon had never seen before, shone in his cousin's eyes, as they gazed around like cornered rabbit. Placing a hand on Roran's elbow, he tried to turn him around, but his gesture was greeted with a terrified stare.

"They are coming!"

"Who are coming? What are you talking about?!"

"I don't know! I can't see them but…"

All the colour drained from his face. His lips began to tremble, but he stood in front of Eragon protectively.

"…they are here"

"Where?"

"They are here…"

"Why are we still standing here…let us leave?!"

"They won't let us escape… they want you"

"Me?"

"I can't stop them…they are too powerful"

"You must run! Leave me! Roran, please go!"

"I will not leave you cousin!"

"Roran! Please!"

"Take my hand…"

"Why?"

"Just take my hand!"

"Roran… you… you are not real…"

Unable to think of any other reason to persuade his cousin to leave, admitting the truth was all that he had left. The words pierced his heart. His last private sanctuary. This one place where all remained perfect and well. With a few words he had destroyed it. How does one tell a dream that it is a dream without waking and never returning again? Bitterness filled him at the thought. But dream or not, he would not see Roran suffer. Roran smiled at him sadly and reached out his hand.

"Don't be so sure…"

Eragon's heart leapt at the implication, but hit rock bottom as an impending feeling of certain death attacked him from all angles. Before he could fight it, Roran grabbed his hand and held it tightly. Eragon squeezed the hand, not wanting to ever let go.

The moment was short lived. Three sets of black gloved hands burst through the soil by his feet and grabbed hold of his legs. With one hard pull, he was dragged waist deep into the earth. Roran fell to his knees, trying to pull him back out. Eragon cried out in pain as Roran tugged harder, but to no avail.

"Leave me! You cannot help me! Please! Go! Be safe!"

"Damn you cousin! I want to save you, but I fear I will pull your arm off like a wing from a fly!"

One more jerk from below the ground had Eragon's head, shoulders and one arm left protruding from the ground. Roran gnashed his teeth together and roared in anger. Eragon met his eyes and nodded. Roran understood. As Roran let go of his hand, he removed something from his pocket and placed it in Eragon's palm. Eragon closed his fist around the object. It was small, smooth, circular in shape and cool to touch.

"What is it?"

"My engagement ring for Katrina…"

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because when I find you, I can get it back"

"But Roran!"

Roran tried to smile. Eragon was about to say more, when with a final tug of his lower body, he was pulled into the darkness of the unknown. The last thing he saw was his cousin's determined face and the love in his eyes. Then he knew no more.

Lia was falling. Falling and falling through a pit so black and seemingly endless, she felt as if she were going to remain here until the end of her days. Despite her panic. Despire her terror. Her palm began to tingle and she remembered. She remembered Murtagh. She did not know where she was. She did not know where he was. But she had to find him. If he was in danger, she had to know. With all her effort, she reached out for him. Nothing happened and then in this pit of eternal night, there was an explosion of blinding white light and then it was gone.

An eerie glow appeared from no where and shone down upon two figures standing side by side, hand in hand. A young girl and a small boy. The girl looked down upon the boy and the boy stared up at her, puzzled. Neither had ever met and yet here they were in this awful place, holding hands as if they were acquainted. Both had an urge to release their hold, but in their current circumstance, there was a great comfort in this touch.

The girl had a tired face, but she was pretty and when the smallest hint of a polite smile tugged at her lips, the boy knew that she was a good person.

"What is your name little boy?"

"I'm not little! I am eight years old!" the boy said defensively.

Trying hard to look apologetic, the girl fought back a grin.

"I apologise young man. Forgive me. Let me introduce myself. My name is Lia. I am thirteen years old. I am pleased to meet you"

"My name is Murtagh…Lia is a pretty name… are you a maid at the house?"

"House? No…I…I work at an Inn"

"Where are we?"

"I don't know…"

"How did we get here?"

"I don't know…"

"It's very dark in here…"

"Are you afraid young man?"

Little Murtagh puffed up his chest and scowled, despite the fear in his eyes. Young Lia felt a sense of pride towards the boy. Most children would have been reduced to a blubbering wreck. This boy had courage. Maybe even more than her own, but she would never let him know that.

"I'm not afraid of anything! I'll protect you lady!"

"I am honoured"

Lia laughed nervously. Murtagh smiled. He was terrified on the inside, but he knew he had to be brave. There was something about this lady that seemed familiar. He liked her already and that itself was strange. He liked only a few. Most nannies and maids showed little interest in him. This girl was… nice.

A gust of wind caused the both to cautiously turn their heads. There was a door. It was tall, made of finely carved wood, with a golden handle and ornate carvings. They walked towards it and stopped in its shadow. Murtagh reached forward and ran his fingers over the raised patterns. Looking over his shoulder and up at Lia, his eyes widened in excitement.

"I know this door! It belongs in my home!"

"Well…it's s door…and it looks like the only way out"

"Come!…we'll be safe…then you can meet my mother and I can tell her to hire you as my maid!"

"That is a generous and kind offer…but first things first…let us see what is through this door…"

"Yes…let's see"

Nodding, they both touched the handle and turned it. There was a loud creak and the door slowly opened to reveal a long, brightly coloured hallway. Murtagh glanced up at Lia and beamed. Lia smirked.

"Let me guess? Home sweet home?"

"Yes. This is my house"

"Well that didn't seem difficult?"

"See! I told you I'd save you! I like you! Come! Let's find my mother!"

"Maybe I should just leave…I am not sure I am welcome in a place like this…"

"Don't be silly! I want you to stay! Please come with me! Pleeeeaaaassse?"

Biting down on her lip nervously, Lia gazed at her surroundings. This was no ordinary house. Whatever family this child belonged to was wealthy. Very wealthy. She was only a girl that worked in an Inn. People of this status did not look kindly on folks such as herself entering their home uninvited. However, the child was insistent and there was something about him that made her feel responsible for his wellbeing.

She would see him safe before making her way back from wherever she was. As they stepped through the doorway, the door slammed shut and locked itself behind them. Murtagh didn't pay the occurrence much heed, but Lia frowned before she was pulled along by the hand by this small boy.

At the end of the corridor was a door. Murtagh raised a hand to knock, stopped and pressed his ear against it. Lia needed to do no such thing. She could hear the noises loud and clear and with every step she took, her common sense screamed at her to leave. Murtagh backed away from the door with a disappointed look.

"My father is home. He's a playing a game with mother. I'm never allowed to play. It's a very noisy game, is it not?"

Lia tried hard not to listen to the grunts, moans and creaks coming from behind the closed door.

"Hmm… quite…"

In a blink of an eye, he had ran past her and headed to a table close by. Upon the table lay a red cushion. Atop the cushion was a beautiful sword. Reaching for the handle was the young boy. A lump rose in Lia's throat as he gripped the hilt in both hands and held it in front of him with a look of glee.

"I don't think that is such a good idea…"

"Why? It belongs to my father?"

"And does he normally let you play with his sword?"

Murtagh didn't answer, but turned his back to her. Not a promising sign. She was no stranger to children. In a brighter time, she had had a younger sister. To forbid him would only encourage him further. Basic reasoning would be her tool to make him put the ghastly weapon down.

"Murtagh…if someone sees you playing with that thing and that I stood here and let you, they will force me to leave. Do you want me to leave and never be able to return or do you want me to stay so that we can play our own games?"

There was a moment of hesitation before he slowly lowered the sword and turned to replace it on the table. Lia sighed in relief. A cold voice came from behind her, causing Muragh to drop the sword in fright and Lia to cast her eyes to the ground.

"Brat…"

From her restricted view, Lia saw the lower half of a grown man. Bare legs. Bare feet. A bed sheet hastily wrapped around his middle. An empty bottle hanging limply from one hand. The stench of ale strong on his breath. He staggered past her and headed for the boy. Raising her eyes only slightly, she watched Murtagh and saw how he shamefully avoided her gaze.

His father picked up his sword and began to pace back and forth, although stumble would have been a more appropriate word.

"You dropped my sword…"

"Father… I…"

"Silence!…You speak only when you are spoken to… until I demand it, you keep your mouth shut!"

Silence from the boy. Silence from Lia. Why hadn't he blamed her? How was she still standing here and bearing witness to this behaviour. Fear kept her rooted to the spot. Fear for her own welfare and fear for the boy.

"Every time… Every time I come, I order you not to touch it… This sword is worth more than your very existence… You are not worthy. You will never be worthy… You disgust me… That pretty face… Those scrawny arms… The way your mother mollycoddles you… You are no son of mine… You are a disgrace… You sicken me with your very appearance and the sound of your voice… You are a curse… The bane of my existence… My shame… Am I making myself clear? Answer me?"

"…yes father"

"Do not offend me with that word! You will call me "sir"!"

"…yes sir…"

"Say it…say you are worthless!"

Lia tried with all her strength not to raise her head and bellow at the sadistic man. With any luck, he would soon leave and she could attempt to counsel the child. No matter how badly she wished to stop this behaviour, she could not. Such an action would be a crime. She could be whipped, beaten and if he indeed were as drunk as he appeared, he could have her arrested and locked away.

Staying silent, she tried to meet Murtagh's eyes. To tell him with a look that he was no worthless, but in order to make it all stop, he would have to do as he was told. Her eyes returned to the floor. The boy's cheeks burned, but he muttered quietly.

"I am worthless…"

"Yes…yes you are…"

The man began to walk away. He stopped with his back to the boy by Lia's side. Lia prayed that he would move faster. When he stopped, she held her breath-half in fear and half to keep his drunk and sweat mingled stink at bay.

"You know… I am a fair man…do you want this sword?"

Murtagh raised his head and eyed the blade in wonder, before thinking better of it and shaking his head.

"No sir"

"But you must want it…"

"I do not want it sir"

"But you handle it at every opportunity, therefore I must deduce that you are lying to me"

"I will not touch it anymore sir"

"I have an idea. Let us play a game.. you and I. It's simple. If you catch the sword, you win. If you don't, I win. Are the rules easy enough? Good…"

"Sir… I…"

The sentence was never completed, for the moment the man finished stating his rules, he had spun around and thrown his sword.

Murtagh stared at him curiously and noticed that the sword was no longer in his father's hand. He wanted to speak, when he tasted something tangy and a damp, thick substance trickled from his lips. He touched his mouth and lowered his eyes to examine his hand. On his fingers, there was blood. Sticking out of his side was the hilt of the sword. He gaped at it, before sinking to his knees. His father appeared in front of him, reached for the hilt and in one swift motion, dragged the blade out. He wiped the blood on the sheet wrapped around him and gave the boy a pitiful look, before stating, " I win" and walking away.

Only at the squelching sound of the sword being pulled from Murtagh and the gasp accompanied by it, did Lia look up. Murtagh was on his knees and swaying to his side. The man began to walk away. Not caring about her manners, she yelled," You bastard!" before running to Murtagh's small, damaged form, bleeding profusely. His eyelids fluttered and his lips bubbled with blood as he tried to speak. Lia put a finger to her lips and then touched his face.

"Ssssssh…don't try to speak…save your strength…you're a strong young man...you are going to be fine…Don't look down…I'm here…just…just don't close your eyes...you keep looking at me"

His eyes stayed trained on hers and she grabbed his hand. The moment their palms touched, they were thrown into darkness. Everything changed. No longer in the house and no longer on the floor, Lia stood with Murtagh cradled in her arms. The only source of light came from a door slightly ajar at the top of a flight of stone steps. Scurrying sounds of invisible rodents echoed in the silence. Lia felt something large and furry brush against her ankle. She held her position and closed her eyes, not wanting to leap in fear and drop the boy. A small, choked voice reached her ears.

"Where…are we?…Are…we safe?"

She knew exactly where they were. The cellar. They were inside the Inn. Avoiding the question, she attempted to give him a reassuring smile.

"I won't let anything happen to you…I will keep you safe"

Climbing the stairs, she slowly opened the door, which led to the kitchen. It was empty. Judging by the stash of pots to be cleaned and no food being prepared, it was late at night. Walking over to the large wooden table in the centre, Lia gently lay Murtagh down and gazed at her apron. She was covered in blood and he was still bleeding heavily. His face grew paler by the second and his breathing more ragged. Quickly removing her apron, she folded it and eased it underneath him, before tying it around his middle and over the wound to stop the blood flow. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he blinked rapidly. She brushed the hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

"I am going to fetch the best healer I can find and I will return. I promise. Stay awake. Please. Try not to move and just… don't close your eyes"

Bursting through the kitchen doors and into the Inn, the place was empty. She ran towards the front door. A booming voice called after her and she skidded to a halt.

"You know the rules! You can't leave unless I tell you to!"

She spun around and stared at him with pleading eyes and spoke quickly and desperately.

"I must! This boy is wounded! If I do not call a healer, he will die!"

"What are you talking about girl?!"

"Please! You must let me fetch a healer!"

"What boy?!"

"That boy!"

Shrieking, she pointed towards the kitchen door, which lay wide open, revealing Murtagh strewn across the table with eyes filled with pain and fear. Kennit stared at the kitchen before fixing her with a peculiar glare.

"Are you mad?"

"No! Dammit, the boy is right there on the blasted table!"

"Lia…there is no one there"

She glanced from Kennit to Murtagh and back to Kennitt again. Why couldn't he see the boy? Was this some sick joke that he found amusing?

"But he's right there! I can't just leave him to die! I promised him!"

Kennit took a step forward and lowered his voice to a serious whisper.

"Keep your voice down…you are going to upset the customers"

"The place is empty!"

A grubby hand gripped hold of her wrist and she yelped in shock as a gap toothed, greasy, fat and balding man seemed to appear out of thin air, sat in a chair behind her. He leered at her and smiled. His voice oily and slurred from too much ale.

"What a fine young girl.. what is your name my flower?"

"Her name is Lia and she was returning to her duties"

"She smells sweet and innocent…how much?"

"She is not for sale"

"Now now Kennit, everything has a price. How many years have we done business together? Play nice and share"

"I told you, she is not for sale. Lia, return to the kitchen. Now"

She tried to shake her arm out of his grasp, but his fingers closed even tighter. In the kitchen, Murtagh's eyes were beginning to close. He was fighting so hard, but he was losing. She saw his eyelids begin to droop even more and she struggled all the more harder. All that mattered was finding a healer. The more she struggled, the firmer the man held. Kennit rolled up his sleeves threateningly.

"You would be wise to let go of her this very instant"

"I'll name a price"

"You cannot have her"

"I'll give you fifty"

Kennit froze and considered the amount before eyeing Lia up and down.

"I will take seventy"

"Seventy?! You are a thieving swine!"

Leaning across the table Kennit clicked his tongue and grinned knowingly.

"You pay me seventy… I close the doors right now and you can have her…you can even beat her around a bit. I know you like to see them scream a little…But not the face…I need her able to work tomorrow…pay me. Now.You have her for an hour"

In answer, the main reached into his pocket and pulled out a money pouch. He tossed it on the table. Kennit smiled and headed towards the front doors. He pulled the bolt across the doors, locking them inside. Lia screamed out.

"No!!!!! He needs a healer! No! Let me go! Let me…"

Her screams were cut short as a fist connected with her stomach, sending her doubling over in pain and the air knocked out of her. Collapsing to her knees, she began to cough. A hand grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her head back. Crying out, she tried to catch a glimpse of Murtagh.

"Kennit. Get this girl a drink. She's going to need it!"

Laughing, Kennit headed into the kitchen, walked straight past Murtagh, grabbed a bottle and walked back out again. Lia began to whimper as she realised that she was in fact the only person that could see the boy. She was being restrained and forced to watch a small child die before her very eyes. Her own misfortune was of no consequence to her. It mattered not whether Kennitt could see him or not. She promised him. She struggled to her feet only to be pressed up against the table. She felt thick, greasy fingers grab her hands and pin them against the tabletop. She felt his bulk and his hardness press into her back. She opened her mouth to scream. No sound came out as her hands were released and a blade flashed before her eyes. The gruff voice of the stranger tickled her ear. The smell of his breath so rancid, she was forced to breathe through her mouth.

"Oh please… scream…scream all you like.. just give me a reason to cut you… I beg you…what?… no pleading?… clever girl… no body would believe you anyway… so play nice and do as you are told…and drink"

Kennit stood beside her and held the bottle before her. Whiskey. She did not want it. She ignored his offer and gazed helplessly at Murtagh. Her eyes widened. Her throat closed. A scream rose within her.

Murtagh was shivering now. His middle was soaked through. Whether from sweat or blood, he did not know. He did not care. It didn't matter. He was worthless. His father had disowned him. His father had hurt him. But Lia said she would keep him safe. He believed her. He watched as she appeared to be bullied by two old men. They didn't seem to notice him. He was glad. He was also confused. Why weren't they letting her leave? Why didn't they believe her? Why was she looking at him with such sorrow in her eyes? Didn't she know that he believed her? He knew she would keep him safe. He trusted her. He would lie here and wait like a good little boy. It wasn't difficult. He could barely feel a thing. The pain was almost gone. He felt numb. It was wonderful not to feel pain anymore. So sleepy. Maybe he could close his eyes. Just for a moment? She had told him not to, but maybe if he rested his eyelids just for a short while, he could keep them open for longer? The mere thought of closing his eyes sent a wave of relief flowing through him. Lia was staring at him. He tried to give her a small smile. To show her what a brave boy he was. He wanted to be a good boy for her. Drowsiness pulled at his eyelids. He let them close. Blissful release. His breathing became shallower and shallower. His small chest rose and fell until it didn't rise again. Whilst thinking of the games that they would play when he got better, he passed away.

The moment Lia saw his eyes close, she forgot about the threat and screamed at the top of her lungs in anguish.

"NO!!!!!! NO!!! NO!!!!! MURTAGH!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The old man took out his blade, but before he could use it, Kennit yelled.

"Put that away! And you girl, shut up and drink! DRINK!"

Her head was pulled backwards by one hand and her jaw was squeezed open by another. Kennit poured the contents of the bottle down her throat. When she tried to resist, she nearly choked. Giving in, she let the warm, fiery drink slide down her gullet, into her empty stomach and dull her senses against what was inevitably about to happen.

Murtagh jerked awake and gasped. There was a low throbbing in his side. But he was very much alive. The sun was beginning to rise into the sky. There was a sleeping dragon before him and cool grass beneath him. Exhaling deeply, he embraced reality and was thankful that it was only a nightmare. As if an echo from a distant time, he felt more than heard a scream. Lia. Lia! She was still stuck in there and those two men were about to…no...he wouldn't let it happen! Tossing his head from left to right, he searched for Lia. She lay a few feet away to his right, curled up in a foetal position and shaking like a leaf. Tears wet her cheeks and incoherent whimpering tumbled from her lips. Without a thought to his own safety, he lunged towards her and reached out both hands to shake her awake.

Her head began to spin and she found her hands holding the edge of the table for support. Kennit stood opposite her, leaned forward and held her hands in place. With a hard push, she was bent over the table. Her skirt was lifted from behind. Two rough and callused hands snaked their way up her thighs, reaching higher and higher. She squeezed her eyes shut and accepted her punishment. The boy was dead. It was her fault. She deserved this. All of this. The hands yanked her legs apart. She heard the fumbling of clothes being removed. She braced herself.

Grabbing her arm, Murtagh shook her. Nothing happened. He shook her even harder. Still nothing. Raising his hand, he swore, before slapping her hard across the cheek.

The back of her dress was ripped open, when she was suddenly returned to her sleeping form. The shock of her smarting face only added to her confusion. Forgetting who she now was, she flailed her arms and legs. One arm hit Murtagh on his side and he cried out, but he did not back away. Grabbing her arms and pulling her to a sitting position, he spoke sternly.

"Lia! Lia! It's me! Murtagh! It was only a nightmare! Lia! Please!…it's me…just…stop…stop and look…please!"

Daring to open her eyes, she saw him. She saw him and she remembered where they were, whom they were, why they were here and what had happened. Her vision was still blurry and things seemed to move on their own accord. Dizziness and nausea took hold of her.

"Murtagh?…I...it…that…how?"

"It was the Ra'zac…I won't explain it now...but it was just a bad dream"

"Then why do I feel so … drunk… and…oh…oh no…you're…you're bleeding!…I…let me up…I need to get up…I need to see to your wound!"

"No! Stay down…you need to rest!"

"No! Let me up! I promised you!…I…"

He let her get to her feet. She managed two steps before falling to her hands and knees and vomiting violently. Without a word, he moved towards her and rested a hand on the small of her back. She rolled onto her side and he pushed her hair away from her clammy forehead. She was hung over an exhausted and still in a state of shock. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his and they were scared.

"Show me…show me your scar…"

Unsure whether he himself wanted to see the damage, he lifted his tunic and through glassy eyes, Lia squinted as she analysed the wound with a single look. She sighed and managed a slight smile, for which he was grateful.

"It is a small cut…it's nothing…I will get he salve"

"I can do it myself…"

"But…"

"Lia…rest"

"I…I don't want to… what if…"

"You won't. They won't. It's over. I'm here…"

"Where is Eragon and how is Saphira?"

He glanced at Saphira and indeed noticed that Eragon was missing, although shamefully, he had not noticed until she had stated the fact.

"We will worry about that after you rest"

"Promise me you'll wake me…wake me if…"

"Just rest… I promise"

She closed her eyes and the first thing she felt was his presence. Not only was he watching over her, but he was with her. Inside. Drifting into sleep, she felt his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her eyes and heard him whisper, "Now it's my turn to keep you safe". She drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Eragon opened his eyes. The moment his consciousness had been returned to him, he had known he was somewhere else. A cold, hard floor lay beneath him. The air was thick with the small of damp and there was a dripping noise breaking the silence, along with the pattering of small feet. Probably a rodent of some description. He had lay like this for some minutes. Now it was time to act.

He was in a cell. It was dark. It was cold. The only source of light coming from a small grate in the wall. Leaping up, he grabbed the bars and hoisted himself upwards. His view was of a street. He could see the feet of people passing by and strangers walking on the other side. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to know where he was. He was in Gil' Ead. He was caught. Murtagh had been right. Instinctively, he tried to reach for Saphira. She wasn't there. He had known that she wasn't before he had tried. Her presence that was always with him was gone. The loneliness he had felt told him all that he needed to know. He was alone. Completely and utterly alone. If he were going to get out of this place, it would be down to him and him only. He gritted his teeth. There was a cluttering sound. He turned around. A tray with food had been shoved through a small flap in the door. His stomach grumbled. If he were going to plan, he would need to eat. He walked towards the door. He bent down to pick up the tray. A bitter, female voice stopped his hand in mid air.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Eragon…Eragon…Eragon… 

The timid and quiet whispering chanted that one name over and over again. Like a sad song, the single verse penetrated Lia's dreamless sleep. It swarmed around her, as if carried by a vortex of wind. What it lacked in volume, it exceeded in emotion: desperation, sorrow and helplessness. Whilst the voice was below a whisper, these feelings screamed out loud. Lia began to stir.

Eragon…Eragon…Eragon…Lia…Lia… 

Her eyes sprung open. She was awake. The voice was still there.

_Lia…Lia…Lia…_

Refreshed, revitalised and given new strength by her slumber, Lia leapt to her feet. Murtagh, who had been staring at her intently, toppled backwards in surprise at her sudden movement. She grinned at him apologetically, before her turning her head to Saphira.

_Lia…Lia…Lia…_

_I am here_

Murtagh stood and brushed the dirt from his backside, before following her gaze.

"Saphira sleeps"

"No…she does not"

Slowly, they approached the seemingly sleeping form of the dragon. At first glance, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Her huge sides expanded and contracted slowly and rhythmically. However, at a closer look, they noticed her eyelids twitching. It was as if they were struggling to open, but could not.

Murtagh dropped down to one knee and reached out a hand. His fingers stopped in mid air, before he turned to look up at Lia. His eyes showed his apprehension.

"I think I know what is wrong with her… but I want to be sure…will she object to my touching her?"

"Do what you must. She is in no state to offer any resistance"

"It's when she regains her strength that I'm worried about", he muttered, as he forced his hand to make contact with the scaly head that lay before him.

Putting all his effort into completing the task as quickly as possible, he cursed quietly and leaned his face closer to hers. He already knew what he was looking for. It was just a case of finding it. His attention was drawn to the dragon's maw. Dipping his head, he leaned even closer. Without warning, he was hit by the putrid stench of dragon breath. A sudden blast of the fetid odour made his eyes water and his throat close. He dry heaved. From above, he heard a snort of laughter. He would have turned around and shot a deserving glare in her direction, but he did not want to waste any further time.

Taking a deep breath through his mouth, he held it and traced a finger along her still jaw. His index finger stopped when it encountered a clear, sticky substance. Having found what he had been looking for, he eased himself into a standing position and rubbed the sticky substance between his fingers. A disgusted expression was pasted across his face. Intrigued, Lia stood by his side and asked the inevitable.

"What is it?"

Murtagh opened his mouth, but instead of an answer, a string of bile left his lips and he doubled over, coughing and retching. He vomited. Unsure why, Lia could only pat his back and hold him steady. After wiping he back of his mouth with his sleeve, he showed her his hand. Instinctively, as if she already knew what answer was to come, her own stomach began to bubble and churn.

His voice wavered as he spoke. As if it were costing him everything not to vomit once more.

"It's the saliva of a Ra' zac…"

"Why did they…what does it do?"

Swallowing hard, Murtagh tried to soften the blow of what he was about to divulge, by forcing a mirthless laugh.

"It is one of their lesser known abilities…They approach their victims as they sleep or after they have rendered them unconscious…They then insert their saliva into them…"

Lia's face turned a shade of green as the implication of his words hit home. Seeing her reaction, Murtagh felt his own nausea alleviated. He allowed himself a small feeling of petty vengeance for her earlier snickering at his misfortune. Although almost to his disdain, unlike himself, she had successfully managed to master control over the contents of her stomach. Not having finished his explanation, he continued in a more steady tone.

"The saliva has a unique effect… It prolongs a being's sleep for hours…Its potency also causes terrible nightmares that are so real that upon waking, a victim may bring back an aspect of their dream… My guess is that the affect of their saliva on a dragon has never been tried nor tested... It seems as if it has only acted as a severe sedative…"

Composing herself, Lia nodded and accepted all that she was told. Her own knowledge of creatures considered higher of being or different was greater than most. But of Shades and Ra' zac? She knew nothing. It seemed that where gaps in her own knowledge existed, Murtagh provided the missing links. Turning her attention to Saphira, she gazed down at the sorry sight. It angered her that such a creature had been incapacitated in such a cowardly way: in her sleep. Murtagh sensed her feelings and knew that if they were going to converse, they would probably wish to do so alone.

"Talk to Saphira…see what she knows…I will prepare some food"

Murtagh left. Saphira's presence returned. Her voice no longer a whisper.

_Lia!_

_Saphira…_

_Eragon!…He is gone!_

_I know…when we awoke, we saw that he was missing…_

_Something took him! … I know not when, where nor how…I woke up unable to talk, unable to move…I failed him…_

The dragon's guilt and torment was too much to bear. Lia spoke aloud. Her tone was firm and final.

"No you did not…you failed no one…you were drugged…it was out of your control…"

_I promised him…I promised to keep him safe!_

He is alive and whilst he is alive, there is hope… 

_It is some magic…some black magic that keeps us apart…we must find him…we must save him and when we do, I swear I shall tear apart whoever stole him from my side!_

Her voice grew louder and more menacing, as her thirst for vengeance fed her with a new vigor. Murtagh approached them, passing Lia a sizeable chunk of bread, for which she was grateful. Something caught Murtagh's eye and he folded his arms, looking pleased.

"Look…she is gaining strength"

Saphira's eyelids struggled against an invisible force. The dragon won. Her eyelids shot open, revealing two sapphire blue orbs that blazed with grievous intent. Murtagh, momentarily shaken, took an involuntary step backwards. Lia stared into those eyes and a sly smile played upon her lips.

_Whatever they did to me…it is fading…my strength and my will return with every second that passes…but we cannot wait…we must act now…we must formulate a plan…do either of you know where they may have taken him?_

Lia turned to Murtagh and relayed Saphira's message. Murtagh cocked his head back over the hill toward Gil'Ead and spoke with certainty, leaving not a shadow of doubt to his word.

"Durza has him. He will be imprisoned. Probably in the deepest, darkest dungeon. But he will be safe. For now. Durza would not dare harm a hair on the head of the king's greatest prize"

"He will summon Galbatorix?"

"Of course. But even with the fastest horses, it will take days for him to arrive. A week at the latest"

"What will they do in this time?"

"Knowing Durza, not much. He would not dare insult the King. But he will seek personal advantage in the situation. Eragon will be safe from physical attacks. A sorcerer has other, more covert means to torture a soul…If we are going to act, we should act now and act fast"

"Agreed…Saphira…what say you?"

In an attempt to move one of her wings, the strain caused a jet of smoke to burst from her nostrils. The wing began to shake, despite only being lifted no more than a few inches. Growling impatiently, Saphira swung her head towards the two of them. Her only hopes of regaining her Rider. The hard expression in her eyes softened, but the determination still lay there.

_I put my trust in the both of you to do what you can to bring him back to safety…_

_Anything…everything…you have our word…we will succeed…or die trying..._

_I know_

Lia rolled back her shoulders, stretched her hands over her head, linked her fingers together and then stretched her arms before her. Her knuckles cracked noisily. A sudden rush of adrenaline caused a broad grin to cover her face. Swishing her head sideways, her hair whirled about her, landing in such a way that half of her face was concealed. All that was visible was the corner of her twitching lips and an eager glint in her eye. Murtagh recognised the look and felt her energy fuse with his own. Cocking her head invitingly, she spoke in an enchanting tone.

"We're about to waltz back into Gil' Ead, break into a prison and rescue the Saviour of the Empire… any questions?"

"Is this the kind of mission where we do whatever it takes to save the hero and there lies little hope in living to tell the tale?"

"We do what we must… and whatever it takes…" she repeated, giving him a provocative smile, whilst reaching out a hand and tracing a line with her finger under his chin. Laughing, he took hold of her hand and shook it, sealing the deal.

"Sign me up", he smirked.

"Weapons?"

"Of course"

"Horses?"

"They would be insulted if we left without them"

"Saphira?"

"Her communication barrier lies between herself and Eragon. We will frequently update her on our position. She is recovering fast. In no time, she will be herself. When we need her, we will call. Not a moment before"

Saphira listened to Murtagh's words and when his eyes rested on hers, she managed the smallest nod of her head.

_He speaks wisely…as much as I would prefer to fly in there and _

_annihilate them all… I will await your instruction…_

We will keep you waiting no longer than necessary 

Picking up their weapons, they arranged them about themselves and concealed them within their cloaks and boots. After preparing and mounting the horses, they nodded a farewell to Saphira and walked Tornac and Snowfire to the crest of the hill. They stopped and stared down at the city gates.

"We ride through the front gates", Murtagh stated.

"And if anyone asks about our hasty exit?" Lia asked

"A domestic argument. Nothing more"

"What of our sudden return?"

"We are still newlyweds and our honeymoon is not yet over"

"Well what are we waiting for?"

Murtagh replied with a mischievous wink and a flick of his reigns. Lia followed. The rescue mission had begun.

Eragon's eyes shot back and forth, searching for the source of the voice. It had been real; therefore it must have come from somewhere. He analysed every inch of the walls, ceiling and floor. He noticed a small, yet ridiculously obvious hole covered by a grate in the far corner of his cell.

Driven by his loneliness, he covered the distance by launching himself across the floor. Sailing the first few feet, he skidded onto his knees and landed heavily on his front. The impact caused his bones to jar. He bit his tongue. He didn't care. He was not alone anymore. Pulling himself closer, until his cheek was touching the cold bars, he stared inside the neighbouring cell. It was empty. His heart sank. Then he heard it. A long, drawn out sigh. Excited, scared and intrigued, he whispered as loudly as he dared.

"Hello?… what is your name?"

"It doesn't matter…"

"Please…tell me your name…my name is Eragon"

"Not down here. Down here you are no one and you'd better get used to it"

"You stopped me from eating the food. Why?"

"It is drugged"

"They drug our food?"

"No. They drug your food. You are in the special cell"

"Special… how is it special?"

"They must think you know something…the soldiers… and the red haired man…that would be their only reason to keep you there"

"How long have they been here?"

"Several months. They took over control of the prison when they arrived with this girl. They tortured her and drugged her. Then one day they moved her. I saw them carry her toward to dungeons. She appeared comatose. Her face was bruised…and yet beautiful"

At her description, Eragon's heart leapt to his throat. It was the girl. The girl he had been looking for. The girl he was meant to have rescued and now, here he was, a prisoner in the same vicinity. He swallowed hard.

"And yourself?"

"Longer. I was here before they arrived"

"What did you do?"

"Only what I needed to survive"

"What sentence awaits you?"

"I am to meet my end on the gallows, although I suspect I shall die of boredom long beforehand"

Eragon was left wordless. The girl acknowledged his shocked silence and couldn't help but laugh. A laugh empty of all emotion.

"They have forgotten me. They feed me, but they have other, more important prisoners to deal with. How long they wait makes little difference. My end will be the same"

"You've never tried to escape?"

"Don't be absurd! This is Gil' Ead prison! No body escapes"

"And that stopped you from trying?"

"It is impossible. Even if I had tried, I would have not made it past the front entrance."

"So that's it?…you will merely await your fate"

"My fate was sealed a long time ago"

"I will not give up hope!"

"Oh I see…you think someone is coming to save you"

Her belittling laugh rattled his nerves and yet strengthened his resolve.

"Someone will come and rescue me"

"Let me put this to you simply… Eragon, was it?… Well Eragon, here is the truth: no one is coming to save you. No one in his or her right mind would dare attempt it. It would be a death wish. A suicide mission. They would have to be insane to even try"

"I've never had much luck with normal friends…I know them…they will come for me", he replied defiantly.

She snorted her disbelief and he sat himself up, with his back against the wall. Her words were meaningless. She knew nothing of him, nor Murtagh, Lia or Saphira. At the thought of Saphira, his loss hit him all the more harder. Unexpectedly, the girl's voice spoke again. All coldness had left her. It was just the voice of a girl who hadn't spoken to another soul in a long time.

"You're not from around here…I can tell…No one from Gil' Ead would have hope…Hope doesn't exist here…You do not know me and you never will…but if it makes your stay all the more comfortable…my name is Ella"

A small hand slipped between the bars and Eragon stared at it. It stayed there. He gently placed his hand upon hers. Her warmth was comforting and for a few moments, neither moved. The moment was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Once again, Murtagh and Lia found themselves leading their horses and approaching the front gates. This was their last chance to turn back. The point of no return. With their heads held high and without hesitation, they crossed the invisible line between safety and almost certain death. They had made their choice. This was it. They had no plan. From here on, they would rely on their improvisation skills. Their minimal chance of success only resulted in the breaking of simultaneous smirks. Holding her expression, Lia questioned her partner in this operation.

_You say Durza recognised you. Does that not mean that they will be expecting us?_

_I have a reputation for running away and steering clear of danger. Us being stupid enough to return will be the last thing that he will expect._

With confidence, they walked through the gates. They passed the guards. They progressed by a further few steps. They didn't make it any further.

"Hold it!"

They stopped. Mentally swearing, they turned to face the shouting guard with politely confused expressions. Without being asked, Lia slipped her hand into Murtagh's. Gripping her hand for support, he addressed the guard.

"Sir?"

"You two. Didn't you just arrive yesterday?"

"That is correct"

"You rode off in a great hurry"

"We...uh…we had a minor disagreement…Rose and I. It is now settled and we wish to continue our pleasurable time here"

"Yes, I heard about that. You two, I mean. You have your fun, but we have families here and they don't need to see… well... any of _that_ sort of behaviour in public. If you get what I mean?"

"I believe I do"

"Well, as long as we're clear. I hope you both enjoy the rest of your stay"

"We will. Thank you for your kind words"

"You are welcome…and boy..."

"Yes?" Murtagh asked patiently, but eager to get away

"Nice catch" the guard replied, with a grin

"I know"

Murtagh laughed. Lia blushed. The guard watched them walk away hand in hand and remembered what it was like to be young and in love. He watched as Murtagh's hand slid out of hers and slapped her backside. However, conveniently missed the part where Murtagh stole his hand away, chucking, as Lia made a swipe to hit him. The guards returned to their posts. Murtagh and Lia were successfully inside.

The footsteps grew closer. The urge to huddle in a corner like frightened animal was stronger than Eragon cared to admit. They would have no such satisfaction. Rising to his feet, he fixed a ready glare at the door. From below, Ella's distressed voice rose to his ears.

"The food! Get rid of it! _Quick_!"

Having forgotten the tray and its contents, he hurriedly picked it up. He panicked.

"Pass it through to me! They never check my cell!"

Thrusting the contents though the bars as quickly as possible, he caught sight of a face. Her eyes met his and then darted to the door, as the rattling of keys clanged warningly.

"Feign sleep! When they awake you seem compliant. Go. _Now_!"

Wasting no time, Eragon lay himself on the floor facing the back wall, curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. A loud creak. Soft, purposeful footsteps. A swish of a cloak. A loud thud as the door slammed shut. A voice both charming and sinister spoke out to him.

"Well, well, _well_…What have we _here_? The new _Rider_…"

In reaction to his words, Eragon swore that he heard the smallest intake of breath. Pretending to stir, he turned onto his other side and began to rub his eyes. Through squinting lids, he caught his first glimpse of the "red haired man".

His eyes were cold and evil. His hair was indeed a flaming shade of crimson. His attire; cloaked from head to toe in black. A cruel smile. This was the creature responsible for both Garrow and Brom's deaths. This was the creature who summoned the Ra' zac. This was the Shade. His first encounter and he had neither a weapon nor the power to cast even the simplest of spells. Suppressing his anger, he assumed a bleary-eyed and confused look, as he dared to open his eyes.

Unblinkingly, Murtagh stared at the prison. Eyes trained on the entrance. The sound of boots impatiently kicking at a wall broke the otherwise endless silence. Lia was restless. It was understandable. After a speedy and safe progression through the city, they had reached their destination sooner than they had hoped. And now they waited…and waited…and _waited_. It was a waiting game. Neither was known for their patience.

Murtagh had taken the first watch. They had been stood in the same alleyway for over an hour. He observed the scene. Lia remained hidden from view. It was a tedious task for both. With his focus now beginning to fade, he murmured to Lia from the corner of his mouth.

"Your turn"

Wordlessly, they switched places. Lia continued the act of staring intently at the ugly building. Murtagh leaned with his back against the wall; head rolled backwards and eyes closed.

"_Tired_, are we?"

Cringing, he opened his eyes, lazily turned his head to the side and fixed the back of her head with a bemused look. He knew she was grinning smugly. He could feel it. Just as she could feel his eyes boring into her and the hostility building up within him.

"I was _resting_ my eyes! That was all!"

"Staring at nothing _is_ a tiring business"

"I was _not_ staring at _nothing_" 

"Very well. In your productive hour, what _did_ you see?"

"Soldiers… soldiers…soldiers…and _more _soldiers" "My point _exactly_" 

"It's just a case of waiting for the right person"

"And who might that be?"

"A no body. Someone who works within the walls that doesn't wear a uniform. There must be _someone_"

"A girl…"

"A girl…a boy…_someone_!"

"No… _look_…a _girl_… she just came out of the place" 

Almost knocking her into plain view, Murtagh poked his head above hers around the corner. Both of them stared at the girl that had emerged.

"Where am I? …Who are you?" Eragon demanded, groggily.

Durza's eyes slowly drank in his appearance. His lips tightened. He averted his eyes. Holding out an apologetic hand, he chuckled. Staring down at Eragon pitifully, he smiled. It was an expression that never touched his eyes; that shined with malice.

"Forgive me…but I must revel in this moment. The plan with the girl. It was a last resort whilst I thought of something more…taxing. To think that the Rider actually abandoned the greater good, to rescue the damsel in distress. I knew you were young. So predictable. The need to be a hero. The need to act without thought. So naïve. So stupid. I suspected as much. But even I expected better. Still, you are here and the King has been notified. He will arrive within the week.

To answer your question, you are in one of the most secure prisons in The Empire. Enjoy your stay, for when you are moved to the dungeons of Uru Baen, this place will seem like a palace.

As for who I am? I am your Host until the King arrives. I can make your stay here pleasant… or extremely uncomfortable. It all depends on your co-operation. If you answer my questions you will be comfortable. However if you prove to be difficult, I can find ways to make you talk…"

Eragon struggled with his common sense. His survival instinct told him to play along. Lie. Do anything to limit his suffering and prolong his life. But his pride. His damned pride would not allow him to bend to the will of his enemy.

"And what if I don't want to…"

Durza's brow knitted into a frown as he glanced from the empty tray, to Eragon.

"Then you would cause yourself a great deal of unnecessary pain"

"I think that you are bluffing. If the King needs me, you cannot touch a hair on my head"

"Your attitude is…unexpected…but I will award you points for your gall. I will give you a day to reconsider my offer"

"I don't plan to hang around that long"

"Whatever you plan is fruitless. You cannot get out. Even if you _had_ help. I must say, your choice in comrades came as a surprise. _Murtagh_? Deary me. You are better off alone. The moment that boy sense danger, he flees. He is _long_ gone by now"

Having Durza recognise Murtagh and speak of him on such a personal level filled Eragon with unease. What if he was right? No. There was a lot he did not know about his companion, but he knew he had his loyalty. Durza's words would not sway his beliefs. Noticing his stubborn glare, Durza nodded his head knowingly.

"He has persuaded you otherwise I see. Yes. _Well_. I can see that he would have that talent. It isn't surprising. But it does not change fact. Murtagh is who he is. And I can assure you that he will leave you to rot. It is sad to see someone such as yourself cling so desperately to a life no longer worth living. With your dragon dead, I am surprised that you have any fight left in you"

Time stood still. Eragon saw Durza's lips move. Sound was coming out. But he could not comprehend a word of what was being said. Saphira. Dead. It was impossible. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

"You haven't wondered why you can't sense her? Did you think it was some kind of spell?"

"You lie!" Eragon stammered.

"Do I?" the Shade asked, taking a step toward his captive.

Stepping out into the open, Murtagh eyed the serving girl as a hawk would his prey. He licked his lips in anticipation.

"And _that_ my Lady is our mark"

Taking one long stride to stand by his side, Murtagh gave her a baffled look, before nudging her back into the darkness of the alley. Affronted, Lia gasped and pointed at the girl.

"I was going to talk to her!"

"I have it covered"

"_You_ have it covered? I think I am better suited to the task, do you not?"

"Oh _yes_… short…_intimidating_…_hot headed_… I can see how she'd warm to you"

"I am _not_…"

Lia began to argue. Then firmly clamped her mouth shut, as she realised that was not helping her case. He combed his fingers through his messy hair, before turning to Lia and presenting her with a dashing smile.

"Well, how do I look?"

Lia answered with a blank stare. He expected it. He ignored it.

"_Shocking_ as it may seem, just because _you_ are oblivious to my good looks and charm doesn't mean that others _aren't_. Watch. You may be pleasantly surprised"

"_You_? … You have a way…with the _ladies_?"

"As a matter of fact, I _do_"

"I find that a difficult concept to swallow"

"Admittedly I may be a tad rusty from lack of practice. But it has been a long time since I have been in the presence of a _real_ _woman_"

Lia glowered, as she took a step toward him and tilted her head upwards so that her eyes met his.

"I am more of a woman than _any_ wench you will _ever_ have the pleasure of seducing"

He cast a glance across her garbed figure. She let him and awaited his expected retort.

"And I find _that_ a difficult concept to swallow"

"You _would_"

"Are we done?"

"For now" 

"Then if you'll excuse me"

"You're excused"

She gestured her hand invitingly toward the girl. Adding a slight swagger to his step, he sauntered towards the alleged "lucky lady". Lia emerged from the alley, however stayed standing in the shadows. Eager to see him make a fool of himself, she folded her arms and grinned. Murtagh stopped in his tracks, turned and winked. Lia felt his confidence surge and realised that he may have been telling the truth after all. Either way, she was about to find out.

As Durza's face inched closer, he did not back away. He just stared deep into those eyes. He had to find it. That one flinch. A tell. Something. Anything that made his words a lie. He found nothing.

The face leaned past his, until he could feel warm breath tickle his ear. Durza whispered. His words dripping with poison.

"You already knew…From the moment you regained consciousness…You knew the truth…You just hoped that it wasn't true… To ease your guilt… Guilt is a terrible thing…It gnaws at you from the inside…And you have every right to feel it, because it is _your_ fault that the dragon got killed… Your arrogance… Your unworthiness… You were an accident… The egg was never meant to hatch for you… Since finding it, you have brought nothing but death to those that you hold most dear… Innocent people have died because of you… And now it ends… Your dragon lies dead and there is no one to blame but yourself, farm boy… How does it feel? …I heard that the emptiness after such a bond is broken is unbearable… Can you feel it? …Can you feel the insanity starting to take a hold of you? …Maybe not yet, but it will come… Your quest was for nothing… You achieved nothing… You have nothing left and now… You are all alone"

Eragon tried. He tried to ignore the words. To place his thoughts elsewhere. He tried to remember that this was no man, but a being made of pure evil. It was no use. The arrow in the form of Durza's accusations hit its target. Straight through his heart. It was too much. It was as if the Shade had delved into his deepest fears and proven them to be real. As he fought to keep his mind clear. As he fought to pretend he had heard nothing, his body caved. He may have been willing to fight the possibility that all was lost, but his body would not.

A roaring filled his ears, as the blood rushed from his head. His legs fell from under him. The last thing he heard was a victorious laugh. The last thing that he saw was Ella's shocked face peering through the grate. The last thing he felt was his head hit the stone floor. Then, he was out cold.

The young serving girl was weary from her morning's work. She breathed in the fresh air. Although this close to the prison and the filthy alleyways, the air was still far from being odourless. She cared little. Anything was better than the stench that polluted the inside. The smell of sweat hung thick in the airless corridors and cells, blended with the even less attractive stink of urine and faeces, both stale and fresh. Some days it was so overpowering, it made her feel dizzy. Initially, it had caused her nausea. But she had soon adapted. A job was a job and these were hard times.

She closed her eyes, as from somewhere in the city, the wind carried the glorious smell of freshly baked bread. When she opened her eyes, a young man stood before her. He was tall, cloaked in black, with shaggy dark hair and beautiful brown eyes. With strong masculine features and a playful smile, she felt her heart beat a fraction faster. Suffering a sudden attack of paranoia, she hoped that she did not carry the stench of her workplace. Looking up at him, she smiled. After one glance into his eyes, she had to look away. The way he was staring at her sent a blush to her cheeks.

From the moment he had stopped and looked down upon the girl, he knew it would be easy. Having stood there for less than ten seconds, she was already acting like a virgin with a crush. He almost pitied her. Almost. She was not unattractive. Perhaps a little gaunt in the face, but she had a slim frame, an ample chest, piercing blue eyes and long, curly fair hair. Certainly not the kind of girl who would escape his attention, had the circumstances been different. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat beside her.

"This is an interesting place to sit and think. I thought I would join you and see where the fascination lies"

She spoke, but to the floor. Her head bowed low, letting her hair fall over her rosy cheeks.

"I work in the prison. I was just taking a breath of fresh air"

"The prison?" Murtagh asked, before casting a glance at the door behind him. Making a show of seeming surprised, he whistled and widened his eyes.

"It must be an interesting place to work. You must see many fascinating things"

"I'm not sure fascinating is the right word. Disturbing would be more accurate. But it pays. I get treated fairly"

"It seems a waste…"

"What does?"

"To have someone as beautiful as yourself kept out of view of handsome devils such as I"

Grinning, she chewed down on her lip. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"I am not always out of sight"

"Really…and when could I possibly have the honour of beholding the vision that is yourself once more?"

"The Inn…at dusk…I often go there after a hard days work"

At the mention of the Inn, a snippet of a scene from his nightmare – _their_ nightmare – flashed before his eyes. Then it was gone. Now was not the time to think of such things.

"Would you object to my joining you?"

She shook her head. Her curly hair bounced from side to side with the motion.

"Then I shall leave you in peace…until this evening"

She nodded and lifted her face to give him her best smile, lighting up her tired face. He gave her a small wave, before leaving her sat on the steps, beaming.

Lia watched dumbfounded, as Murtagh appeared to transform a serious looking working girl into a love struck teenager. He had done it so effortlessly. She found herself staring at him and trying to see where the attraction lay? He was attractive in a roguish way. He had a dangerous look that she imagined might have appealed to some women. He stood at a good height and his body was well sculpted. But for all that, she was still far from ever being susceptible to his so-called charms.

Regardless of her view, he had indeed accomplished whatever it was that he had set out to do. It was evident from his cocky smile. A part of her wanted to wipe the expression off his face, but the other was shamefully impressed. Trying to hold an indifferent expression, she waited for him to announce the outcome. He stood before her with a smug expression.

"Say it my Lady…"

"Say what?"

"You _know_ what"

"_Alright_…she must have been a desperate woman _indeed_ to fall for whatever act you played"

Murtagh saw through her insult. She could hide behind words, but her thoughts and feelings still mingled with his. She knew this, but insisted on pretending otherwise. Sometimes it paid to keep up the illusion that they still had the luxury of privacy.

"I have arranged a rendezvous"

"_Really_? How _romantic_. Business or pleasure?"

"Well…I guess it depends on how much time we have to spare?"

"Let me answer that question for you. We _don't_"

"Then _business_ it is. We meet at dusk…at the Inn"

For a fraction of a second Lia froze, then forced an amiable smile. Murtagh hesitated, before adding, " I did not chose the location"

"It is fine. After all, what better place is there to gather information? The Inn is perfect"

"Agreed. But dusk is still a few hours away"

"Until then…?"

"Contact Saphira. Tell her what is happening"

"What _is_ happening?"

"I'm not sure, but I will tell you as soon as I find out" 

"And _after_ I speak with Saphira?"

He paused and appeared to give the question some serious thought. His tongue ran along his lower lip. The action was followed by an enticing look, which she met with a warning brow.

"Well…these _may_ be our last few hours alive…I know how _I'd_ like to spend them…and we are _meant_ to be a couple of newly weds…"

The suggestion hung in the air. She took a step forward, daring him to continue.

"I'm _sorry_. I am having trouble understanding what you are saying. Would you care to _elaborate_?"

"Would it really be so wrong? I mean… you certainly wouldn't be _my_ first choice, but you will _suffice_. So how about we find ourselves a nice little tavern and…"

Lia's fist connected with his groin. His eyes watered and he struggled to stay standing. Steadying himself with a hand against the wall, he wheezed. As his head was bent low with his chin almost touching his chest, she drew her face to his. Her lips brushed against his cheek as she spoke calmly into his ear.

"Here is something you may care to remember good _Sir_…I swore to protect you from harm caused by _others_…You are _not_ immune to pain inflicted by _me_…do I make myself _clear_?"

"_It…was…a…joke_", he uttered between gasping breaths.

"I know", Lia replied with the sweetest of smiles, before turning her back to him and preparing to contact Saphira.

Since the moment that they had left, Saphira did all that she could do. She stayed put. In the beginning, each time a fraction of her strength returned, she would attempt to move. And every effort cost her whatever energy she had just gained. It was soon discovered that by lying still, her body's defences effectively took over her battle. For two hours, she did nothing. Waiting for the perfect moment to try again. Feeling the first twinges of Lia's presence, her eyes opened wide and her tongue flickered.

_Lia. How fare Murtagh and yourself?_

_We re-entered the city with little trouble. We have been watching the prison and have now found ourselves a potential means to entering the building_

_This is good news_

_We have no plan as of yet, but in a few hours we shall contact you again. In the meantime, how do you feel?_

_I have resisted the urge to test myself, but I feel strong. Strong enough, I think, to fly. I still cannot feel him… but I may try to reach out_

_Saphira…If he has been drugged, then you may not be able to. But do not lose hope_

_I need to find some way to let him know that I live…That we come for him…_

_He knows_

_Besides, this devilry that suppress my power seems almost spent. And do you honestly think that whatever binds my Rider is any match for the magic or will of a dragon?_

_I know not. But I hope that you are right. I shall leave you to rest. Fare well_

_Fare well_

The communication ended. She would wait until the final negative effects ebbed away. Then she would stretch her wings, hone her senses on the city and locate her Rider. Her decision was final. When the time came, she would not rest until she had established contact with him.

"Eragon! … Eragon! … Damn you, move!"

Eragon opened his eyes. The side of his head that touched the floor was tender and sticky. Having not felt the pain on impact, the sensation attacked him now. He heard a sigh of relief. Rolling onto his front, he saw Ella's hands gripping the bars tightly. He could only make out her eyes. In the darkness, her dirty face was featureless.

"Thank the heavens! I thought you were dead!"

Scrambling into a sitting position, he prodded his head, searching for more wounds. Apparently he had only suffered the one, which had already rose into a lump the size of an egg.

"No…not yet. I'm discovering that I'm not that easy to kill"

"You were bloodey lucky! The sound your head made when it hit that floor…well…I thought you were a goner!"

"I heal quickly"

"And I suppose that has something to do with you being a…_Rider_, was it?"

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it. You were both hardly talking in whispers now, were you?"

"Well if you know, why do you ask?" 

"I don't know. None of what either of you said made any sense. Dragons?! Am I surrounded by crazy folk?! It is insane. Yet you both spoke as if such creatures exist?!"

She waited for him to argue. To give her some form of answer. He said nothing. He only shuffled around, so that his face was out of view. Was it because he was embarrassed or did he truly believe the words that he had spoken? Her voice softened, as she questioned him further.

"What _is_ a Rider?"

"Why should I tell you? According to your conclusion, I am a crazy person"

"Humour me"

"_Humour you_…?", Eragon turned his head. His eyes pierced her with an icy stare. As he spoke, a tear tumbled down his cheek.

"I embrace this destiny that was supposedly never meant to be mine… People who have meant the world to me have died and the one being that I have ever loved more than any other may be dead for all I know… And you want me to humour you? With what? Things that you will never believe, unless you see them with your own two eyes? Is that why you tried so hard to wake me? So that I could amuse you? … Amuse yourself and leave me be!"

Shocked into a shameful silence, she tore her eyes away from his.

"I tried to wake you because… I was worried about you…"

"_Why_…?"

"I knew you must be special to be in there…I just…I was always told that dragons weren't real…I _believe_ you…I just find it _difficult_…"

"No one is asking you to believe" 

"…I'd _like_ to…"

Neither spoke as Eragon contemplated her words.

"What do you want to know?"

Since contacting Saphira, they hadn't moved. Where could they go? Wandering around the city was not an option. They decided that it would be better to stay. Wait for the girl. Follow her to the Inn and hope that whatever they planed actually worked.

The first half an hour passed without an uttered word. Both were deep in their own thoughts. A more difficult task than either had hoped, having the others' feelings constantly interfering with their own. Lia was tense and Murtagh was in no mood to initiate conversation, still mentally and physically sore from the assault on his genitals.

Through a gap in the rooftops, Lia watched the clouds. Too restless to sit, she paced back and forth down the alleyway, throwing glares at any vagrants that eyed her with anything more than slight interest. Murtagh had not shared her problem and decided to use this opportunity to rest. With his knees pulled to his chest and his head cradled in his folded arms, he was already fast asleep.

"…And that is when I awoke in this cell", Eragon concluded his story. He waited and listened for her reaction. She had long disappeared from view. From what he had discerned from noise alone, she was sat with her back to the wall. She had made not a sound through his recital. He suspected that she had fallen asleep. Despite leaving out many details and offering her the condensed version of his journey so far, he felt as if he had been talking for hours. Having no way to judge time made it even harder to guess.

"You have endured much Eragon…"

He smiled, relieved that she had listened and believed him. There was also something about the use of his name that made him feel more at ease. He was so accustomed to being referred to as "Rider", that personal relationships with others seemed impossible. By using his name, she accepted his existence as a person. Not just a potentially heroic figure.

"I have…But the rewards were great. I had found two loyal companions and for each and every day that passed, Saphira and I grew more and more as one"

"Do not listen to him…The red haired man…Do not let him plant seeds of doubt in your heart…He was lying to you"

"How can I know for sure…"

"You? You cannot. But I assure you that Saphira is alive. And if your colleagues survived, they will come for you"

"How can you possibly know this?"

"He is your enemy. He knows certain facts about you and he is using them. You are here all alone with no one to help you stay strong. He is playing on your fears. He wants to break you. Do not let him"

"You were wrong about one thing…"

"What?"

"I am not here alone and I have someone to help me stay strong"

He passed a grateful hand through the bars. She took it. This time, there was nothing to make them let go.

Eyes closed, Murtagh kissed the female deeply. Too long had it been since allowing himself to enjoy pleasures of the flesh. Her lips were soft and she tasted so sweet. He plunged his hands through her hair and pulled her closer to him. Sliding a hand from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine, he caressed her bare skin. He would take her now. He was ready. He would open his eyes, kiss her one final time and then lay her down. He opened his eyes. Staring up at him was Lia.

Waking with a start, his head jolted backwards, banging hard against the wall. He growled in pain. Hearing the noise and seeing him nurse his sore head, Lia laughed.

"You saved me the trouble of waking you. It is nearly time", she said, as she pointed to the darkening sky.

Still haunted by his dream, he could only frown and stare at her uneasily. He thought of brick walls. Stone floors. Eragon. Saphira. Anything to hide his thoughts from her.

"Are you well rested?"

"Yes"

"Murtagh… why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you suspect me of being a brutal murderer?"

"Am I?"

"Yes! You're doing it right now!"

"You'd better get used to it" he shrugged

"Oh really? Why?"

"Because after tonight, you may well become known as one"

"Will that gain me a pretty picture to be hung beside the Rider and yourself?"

"Of course. You will be joining the Empire's Most Wanted list. How does that make you feel?"

"Rather honoured"

They exchanged grins.

"So it should. You're pissing with the big boys now"

"Well… when you put it like that…I _do_ feel special"

"And now…we wait for the girl"

"Did you not ask for her name?"

"What would I need her name for?" Murtagh asked, confused.

"Men!" Lia stated, rolling her eyes and walking away.

It happened. It was so natural. So sudden. One moment Saphira was alone and then she felt him. As if he had always been there and she had merely been too blind to see. He was in good health. He was afraid. She wanted nothing more than to soar through the sky and find him. If only it could have been that easy. Overwhelmed by relief, she rendered speechless. All she could do was send him all of her love.

Eragon's hand gripped Ella's tightly, as he felt the gaping void in him being filled by all that was Saphira. He thought that his heart would explode from the rush of feelings that fused with his. Unable to hide his emotions, he squeezed her hand all the more harder and began to sob tears of joy.

"What is wrong?" Ella asked in a voice filled with concern

"Nothing…" Eragon laughed between the tears "…not anymore".

Dusk arrived. The girl emerged. She made her way towards the Inn. Murtagh and Lia followed. Keeping a thirty pace gap between them, they maintained a safe enough distance to converse. There were only a few Inns within the city's centre and after the first few twists and turns, they were certain of where they were headed. As they walked, they talked.

"We're nearly there" Lia said

"About time"

"We will enter separately"

"Of course. Then I will find her and see if she is of any use to us"

"She had better be. In the meantime, I shall sit close enough to be of assistance, should you require any"

"I think I can handle a frail little serving girl"

"It wouldn't be the first time that you were wrong"

The girl disappeared through a set of double doors that swung shut behind her. They stopped. They were here. Lia glared at the building, hating everything that it represented to her. She didn't wait for Murtagh to say any comforting or encouraging words. She could do this. This was just a building. Nothing more. Bunching her fists, she held her head high, left his side and casually walked into the place that had once been considered hell.

Murtagh felt her compose herself. He did not interfere. This was something that she needed to do for herself. She entered first. It was her right. Her duty. Her battle. He watched her shun her past, as she gracefully strode onward. Only when she was out of sight did he allow himself to feel proud of her. He waited a minute and then he made his move.

For a long while, Eragon and Saphira just embraced the sensation of being reunited. Ella has released Eragon's hand, giving him the privacy that he required. Saphira was the first to speak.

_Little one…_

_Saphira…_

_Tell me everything…_

_There is little to tell. They stole me in my dream. I awoke here. Durza paid me a visit. He said that the King is on his way. He told me you were dead. He told me that Murtagh had fled._

_And did you believe him?_

_It was difficult. But I knew…I knew it couldn't be true_

_I am here now and Murtagh and Lia are in the city, plotting your rescue as we speak_

_I knew they would not abandon me_

_We are destined for great things. This is but a minor setback_

_How do I always get myself into these situations?_

_By following your heart instead of your head_

_Brom would be turning in his grave if he could see me now!_

_Everything happens for a reason Eragon and I think that Brom would be proud that you had the courage to risk your life to save another. Ever if he could not have said the words_

_You're right…_

_There is something you haven't told me…_

_A small detail_

_Eragon...tell me what it is you are hiding…_

_I have made a new friend?_

_Have you?_

_Her name is Ella. She is in the cell next to mine_

_You always find friends in the most unlikely places…but that isn't what you are neglecting to tell me…Something Durza told you…It troubles you…_

_I have less than a day…he gave me a day to chose a more co-operative manner_

_And if you deny him his wish?_

_He will find ways to make me talk_

_He means to torture you?!_

_Saphira…please…I can withstand a little discomfort…You cannot break me out of here overnight!_

_Yes we can!_

_Saphira…_

_No! They took you from me! I'll be damned if I let them torture you as well!_

_What do you expect Murtagh and Lia to do?! They are doing all that they can, I can promise you!_

_They can work faster!_

_Saphira…I…_

_Be strong Little One. We come for you. Tonight._

_Saphira!_

_Farewell my love_

The Inn was packed with both able and less able bodies. There was never a bad time to drink copious amounts of ale; a fact proven by the unnecessarily loud conversations, angry raised voices and hoards of stumbling old men. Despite the crowd, Murtagh found Lia with ease. Lia was perched on a stool at the bar, with a large jug of ale before her. Either side of her sat two, large men. One tried to strike up a conversation with her. Whether polite or suggestive, his efforts were crushed by a sneer and a dismissive turn of her head. The man had the good sense not to try again. Murtagh pulsed a thought her way.

_I'm inside. Have you seen her?_

_She sits in the far right corner_

_You look… cosy?_

_It was the best vantage point. However, the next person that tries to talk to me will get a bloodied nose_

_There's no need to make a scene. Those looks you give works like a charm_

_I am rather frightening, aren't I?_

_Terrifying…_

_Go talk to her_

_I was going to. You were distracting me_

_Oh? So now I've been upgraded from not being your first choice, to being a distraction? You do know how to make me feel like a woman!_

_No. I just wanted to see which of those two you punch first_

_I'll come and punch you, if you don't get a move on!_

_Anything for you my lady…_

Lia threw one final disgusted glance to the unfortunate men beside her, before grabbing her jug and taking a large gulp of ale. On a fairly empty stomach, it had the desired effect. Feeling slightly calmer, she lowered the jug and contemplated whether finishing it would be a wise course of action. Whilst she debated the age-old question, Saphira jabbed at her mind with an urgency that caused her head to throb.

_Lia!_

_Yes?_

_You and Murtagh. You need to free Eragon. Tonight. It cannot wait!_

_We can but try_

_No! He faces torture! It must be tonight! If you do not help him than I shall! You have a few hours. After that, I will wait no longer. I do not care about exposure any more. I want my Rider safe!_

_So be it_

Returning her attention to her surroundings, she noticed two empty seats where the men had been previously sat. Picking up her jug once more, she drained the contents. It was going to be a long night. A little alcohol-induced confidence would not hurt. About to reach for Murtagh, she turned to locate him and assess his progress.

A young man with long, sandy coloured hair stepped into her view and sat himself beside her. He requested his drink. Noticing her, he smiled. Their eyes met. His smile dropped, as his mouth hung open. His attractive face was ruined, as he lapsed into an expression of stupor. Lia sobered up. Recovering from his initial shock, he flung his arms around her and hugged her fiercely. Awkwardly, she patted his back. This was a complication.

"Lia?" he whispered " Is it really you?"

"Hello Jacob…Yes…It's me"

Question, after question, after question. It was all that the girl seemed capable of. He had remembered to ask for her name, but had promptly forgotten it. To compensate for her complete lack of personality and ability to think for herself, she continued to pester him. Simple inquiries. Silly inquiries. For which every last one demanded a dishonest answer.

Growing tired of her, he remembered why he had avoided bedding any female above the status of a whore. They talked too much. They asked too much. Social conduct stated that he allowed at least five minutes of meaningless conversation, before extracting all the information that he could gain.

"Where did you say you were from?" she asked for the umpteenth time. Avoiding the question, he reached across the table and took her hands in his, stroking her fingers gently.

"Enough about me. What of you?"

"What would you care to know?"

"Anything… Everything…"

"I was born in…"

"Begin with your work in the prison"

"I'm not really supposed to talk about what I see…"

"I'm intrigued… Very well… I have a proposition for you. If you tell me that secret, then I shall share with you one of my own"

"How do I know if your secret is true? You could tell me lies for what little I know of you?"

"You don't know. Isn't that part of the excitement?"

"I'll need more convincing that that I'm afraid. I could lose my job"

"More convincing? I believe I can do that. A fair-trade. You tell me all that you know about the goings on inside the prison and I will…"

Leaning across the table, he whispered something into the girl's ear that made the shyness leave her eyes and a sigh escape her lips. Sitting back in his chair, Murtagh folded his arms and grinned. Resting her chin in her palm, she offered him what he assumed was an enchanting smile.

"I accept your trade. Ask me whatever you must?"

Jacob released his hold on Lia and took her face in his hands. Examining her face with a scrutinising stare, his hands dropped back to his sides and he shook his head in disbelief.

"I can't believe it…I…I never thought I would see you again"

"You weren't meant to…"

"You came back… why?"

"I…I can't tell you…I'm sorry"

"Six years have passed…You've changed…You've grown…but I never forgot your eyes"

"You look well Jacob…"

"You look beautiful"

She dropped her eyes. This was the wrong place. The wrong time. The one other person to whom she owed a debt and it could never be repaid.

_What is it?_ Murtagh asked, in response to her change in emotion.

_We have a problem. Saphira says we are to get Eragon out tonight or she will do it herself_

_Damn it…_

_And then there is my old friend Jacob… He's here_

_Try to avoid him_

_I cannot. He's here. Next to me. He recognised me_

_Perfect!_

_What can I do?_

_Nothing…for now_

_Are you nearly done?_

_I'm getting there_

_Hurry…_

The girl stopped talking when she noticed the faraway look in Murtagh's eyes, as he conversed with Lia. She clicked her fingers in front of his face.

"Am I boring you?"

"Is that it? Everything?" he asked curtly. The new problem erased his manners. It was dark outside. There was no time to lose. He remembered all that she had said. Her use was outlived and now there was Lia's old male friend to consider. The girl frowned.

"Yes… What is it?"

"Nothing. I feel like some fresh air. Join me"

"And then?"

"I fulfil my end of the bargain…"

He stood and offered her his hand. She took it. They walked past the bar.

_I'm heading back to the alley and I'm taking her with me. Leave now and bring your man with you_

Murtagh and the girl left. Lia knew what she had to do and hated herself for it. But there was no other option. Hopping off the stool, she motioned her head to the door.

"Maybe we should find a more private place to talk?"

"It would be wise"

Not waiting to see if he followed, she passed through the doors and walked down the lonely, dark and empty streets. He followed a few paces behind her. When they approached the alleyways, his footsteps ceased.

"Where are you taking me Lia?"

"It isn't far now" she replied over her shoulder.

The mouth of the alley she required was in sight. If she was going to do this, she wanted it to be quick. She stopped and waited for him. When he was stood by her side, she indicated where he was supposed to go. He didn't question her. He walked around the corner. _Smack!_

Alarmed, Lia ran the few steps to see Jacob lying on the floor. Murtagh stood over him. His sword still in his hand. Falling to the floor, she began to check his bloodied head. Murtagh hid his sword back underneath his cloak.

"He's _unconscious_"

"Did you have to hit his head so _hard_?"

"I didn't want him waking up any time soon"

"_Apparently_!"

"One down…_one_ to go"

"Where is she?"

"She's by the prison entrance… with the _keys_"

"…Are you telling me that she is just going to let us in?"

"In a manner of speaking…For an additional "_arrangement_", I was offered of a tour of the upper grounds"

"What did you find out about the place?"

"The entrance level of the building is the least guarded. One, maybe two soldiers. It is the lower levels and the dungeons that we have to worry about"

"How worried should we be?"

"Thirty…maybe forty soldiers"

"And what of Durza?"

"Durza would not reside within those walls. But he will stay nearby. With any luck, we can avoid his detection"

"_Forty guards_…that is _quite_ a figure…even for _us_"

"And if things get bad… _potentially_ a Shade"

"We need to do something to make the numbers more… _manageable_"

"I was just going to suggest killing them all. But if you have a _better_ idea…"

"I _may_… What about your lady friend?"

"She waits for me"

"Can you distract her?"

"How long do you need?"

"In a _perfect_ world?… twenty minutes"

"_Twenty minutes_? I'm sure I can keep her occupied for that long"

"I daresay you can"

"We will be here"

"Do I want to know the _details_ of your _arrangement_?"

"I think it is best that you just trust me"

"Fine…If I run into trouble.."

"_Call me_"

Nodding a brief farewell, Lia pelted away at full speed. She trusted him to take care of his end. He would trust her to take care of whatever plan she had concocted.

Stepping out of the alleyway, he saw the girl waiting outside the prison entrance. She had the eager eyes of a child about to misbehave, just for the sheer thrill of the sensation. He put his fingers between his lips and whistled once. He had her attention. Beckoning her with a finger, he waited around the corner. The moment her figure was in view, he grabbed her around the middle and pulled her out of sight.

Racing through the back streets, Lia found her way to the Apothecary. It was exactly where it had been all those years ago. The same jars in the window. The same strange smell wafting from under the door. She didn't have time to be careful. She had to get inside and take what she needed. The shop was long closed. There was no way to break in without causing a scene. She would have to gain access the old fashioned way. Knock.

She rapped hard against the door. Not a sound. Rapping harder, she pressed her ear against the door. Nothing. Picking a small stone from the floor, she aimed it for the upper window and threw it with all her strength. A light flickered as a candle was lit. A little old man opened the window and peered down at her angrily.

"_What do you want_?!" he hissed

Faking a sob, she gazed up at him with frightened eyes and clasped her hands together.

"_Please… please help me_!" she begged

"Can it not wait until morning?"

"_It's my baby_"

"I don't see any baby?"

"_The one inside me…please…please come down_"

Grunting something, he closed the window. There was a series of cluttering noises and then a rattle and creak as the door opened.

"Now _listen_… I don't _normally_ see …"

He went flying backwards as she kicked him in the stomach. She slammed the door shut. When he tried to get up, she held her foot down against the side of his neck. He struggled for a few moments and then passed out. There was no time to ponder upon her actions. She had to find what she was looking for and get back to the alley as quick as possible.

The name of the plant having escaped her, she relied on her memory of their appearance and odour. Two rows of dried herbs hung from the walls. Tearing them down, she grabbed them in turn, until she found what she was looking for. The dried black pungent roots weren't difficult to find. Grabbing all that she could, she stuffed them inside her cloak. She had all that she needed. Closing the door on her way out, she raced back to their arranged meeting place.

Pinned against the wall, the girl was unable to move. It was not an unpleasant experience. The strange young man was beginning to hold up his end of the bargain. His kisses were firm and hungry and she could sense he wanted more. So why was he wasting time? Breaking away from the kiss, she lifted up the hem of her skirt. He cleared his throat almost nervously, before pressing himself up against her. Giggling, she turned her head as he kissed her neck. That was when she saw the body on the floor beside them. She clung to him tightly, scared.

"What _happened_ to him?!"

"Hmmm…You _weren't_ supposed to see that" he smirked

"_What_?.. What _happened_ to him?!"

"I think you should put the _nice lady's_ skirt back _down_ and answer her question, don't you?" Lia ordered in a maternal way, as she strolled down the alleyway.

Murtagh took a step back from the girl and shrugged. In one motion, he withdrew his sword and let the hilt collide with the side of her head. She crumpled to the floor without a sound. Staring down at her, Murtagh and Lia sighed and exchanged looks.

"Well I see you managed to balance your business and _pleasure _needs"

"I kept her occupied. There were no rules stating how"

"It's a shame you forgot to hide _Jacob_"

"We still have the _keys_"

"Get them off her. Then let us move them out of sight"

"_Wait_… I have a _better_ idea"

"Should I be worried?"

"Take off your clothes"

"I'm _worried_"

"_No_… not for _that_. _Dress up_. As _her_. Pretend you are the new serving girl"

"Oh _please_. Like that idea hasn't been done to _death_?"

"She was our one way of getting inside without arousing suspicion and now she's out _cold_ and will _probably_ wake up feeling less _generous_"

"What about you?"

"I am your guest. Besides, someone needs to carry your clothes"

"What if we get stopped?"

"I trust you to come up with a convincing story"

"I have never hear of a plan where so many things could go wrong"

"Stop complaining, turn around and get changed"

Turning her back on him, she moved towards the body of the girl and bent down the undress her. For the second time in as many days, she found herself thinking: _Rider, the things I endure for you_.

"Tell me about your friends Eragon" Ella asked, in attempt to break the long silence that had lasted since Saphira had made contact with him.

"Murtagh and Lia… what can I say? They are…interesting"

"Interesting how?"

"I like them, although I am never quite sure why"

"They're coming to save you. That seems like a good enough reason to me"

"They are completely different…and yet two of a kind"

"Do you think they will succeed?"

"I know they will. What concerns me is what they will do to achieve it"

"They will do whatever it takes to get you out of here"

"Sometimes that is what bothers me. Performing bad deeds to achieve good things"

"These are the times in which we live. You care too much Eragon. That is why you are a Rider. That is your place. To see what is right and wrong and alter it accordingly. They do whatever they must to ensure your survival. That is why they are your protectors. They have the ability to live with whatever wrongs they must commit to see you stay alive"

"It cannot be easy. Harming so easily, so brutally. And just dismissing it as an act of normality"

"Maybe it isn't. But I am sure they have their own way of dealing with it. We all have ways of dealing with the unpleasant things in life"

"That much I know is true"

A cloud passed over the moon. Complete darkness fell upon them. Eragon began to wonder how close Murtagh and Lia were at that precise moment. Saphira's wings twitched. Enough. She would take matters into her own hands. Her wings snapped open to take flight.

_Saphira…we are about to rescue Eragon_

She folded her wings once more.

_Your timing is impeccable_

_We're going inside. We have ways of taking care of the soldiers. But when we reach Eragon, we will need your help. We will call you. You will find us and you will get us out of here._

_I can manage carrying three people_

_Are you going to wish us good luck?_

_You don't need it_

They unlocked the front door and walked inside.

_Lock it_

_It's the one way in and out?!_

_Exactly. Lock it_

She locked the door. Murtagh stood carrying a bundle of her clothes wrapped up in her cloak. The girl's clothes were too tight. Breathing was made difficult. And the strange feeling of a skirt gave her an odd feeling of nakedness. Noting her discomfort, Murtagh edged her forward

_Let's get this over with. What do you need?_

_Is there a kitchen?_

_Yes. There should be one…here _

He nodded to a nearby open door. The hallway was empty. They rushed into to the kitchen. It too was empty. Thanking the heavens for small favours, Lia grabbed Murtagh by the arm and hauled him inside. The kitchen was small compared to normal standards. Then again, prisoners hardly required meals fit for a king. Lia searched the shelves for the biggest saucepan she could find. It was out of her reach.

_Pass me that saucepan! The gigantic one!_

_For my lady in a skirt? Anything_

Whoever worked here must have been a giant. Everything was stacked so high, that even Murtagh had trouble reaching the blasted thing. His fingers gripped one of the handles and he pulled. Dragging it toward him slowly, he attempted to be quiet. An attempt ruined by the weight of the damn thing. Once the main bulk moved past the edge of the shelf, it dropped like a cannonball. He tried to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers. The clanging noise it made as it hit the floor rang through the whole hallway. This resulted in a nearby shout and the sound of running feet. Lia pointed to one of the large cupboards. He gave an exasperated sigh, to which she responded with a "_well-if-you-hadn't-been-so-damn-noisy-you-wouldn't-have-to" _look. She opened the doors. He climbed inside. Shutting them, she picked up the saucepan and placed it inside the large sink. Filling it with water, she busied herself. The footsteps came to a skidding halt outside and she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Glancing at the hand on her shoulder, she raised a baffled brow.

"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm working?"

"I've never seen you before. Why are you here at this late hour?"

"You've never seen me here before because I've never worked here before. My cousin works during the day. Your Lord requested her presence this evening, but she has fallen ill. I was recommended to replace her"

"Our Lord?"

"The gentleman with the red hair. He knows that you watch over someone of great importance to the King. He wants to make sure his soldiers are well looked after, so that they can keep watch with extra vigilance"

The guard removed his hand from her shoulder and glared at his companion, who nodded grudgingly. They conversed as if she were not there.

"Sounds about right. Bloodey soldiers. We work here for years and we get nothing. They're here for a few months and they get all the special treatment"

"Bastards. The lot of them"

Sensing their resentment, Lia tried to use the situation to her favour.

"I'm supposed to be ensuring they drink plenty of fluids other than ale and seeing they never remain hungry. But as they never emerge above the lower floors, I will quite happily cook whatever you gentleman like. It is wrong that outsiders get all the benefits"

Looking pleased, they smiled down at her. She returned their smiles. Her foot nudged something. Her bundle of clothes on the floor.

"Now if you gentleman will excuse me, I have a special beverage to prepare for the soldiers"

The nodded and left. Picking up her bundle of clothes, she unfolded her cloak and pulled out the dried plants. Throwing them into the saucepan, she filled it with water.

_Can I come out now?!_

_No. I think you should stay_

_Very funny_

_Do you promise not to make enough noise to wake the dead?!_

_You know, I think I will stay in here_

_I think it is best. I am nearly done. I just need to let these roots soak for a further minute. Then they will be ready_

_Are they poisonous?_

_No. They act as sedative. It is often used when performing surgery._

_How long until it takes effect on those who drink it?_

_Not long. Ten minutes. _

_Ten minutes to intoxicate forty soldiers?_

_I will serve as many as I can find. I will have help._

_Those two?!_

_I think I can persuade them to give me a hand_

_Pah! They'll never help you if it involves the soldiers_

_We'll see…it's ready_

Poking her head out of the doorway, she yelled down the hall.

"Sirs?!"

The guards had remained in the hallway, obviously eager to receive some nourishment.

"Yes miss?"

"If it is not too much trouble, I could really use some help"

"We're a little busy"

"Doing what?"

"Guarding"

"It won't take both of you. It's just that this saucepan is ridiculously heavy and I need to take it down to the soldiers. I am under strict orders to tell them that they each have to drink one ladle of this revitalising beverage"

"Oh alright. I'll carry it"

"Any chance you can help me shout all the buggers to get their attention? I don't want to get in trouble with the Lord for neglecting my job. And the sooner I get it done, the sooner I can come back here and serve you _fine_ gentlemen"

"Well, if you put it like _that_"

_My lady, I am impressed!_

_And you dared doubt me_

_Please accept my humble apologies_

The guard led the way. Lia followed. Down a spiralling staircase they went, until they reached the first lower floor. It was cold, damp and smelled repulsive. A small table stood at the bottom of the stairs. The guard placed the saucepan on the table and hollered at the top of his voice.

"SOLDIERS OF THE KING! YOUR LORD DURZA HAS INSISTED YOU DRINK THIS…whatever it is" he muttered to Lia, who shrugged and smiled.

From everywhere, soldiers appeared and stared at the saucepan. Not wanting any questions asked, Lia presented the first soldier in sight with the ladle.

"One ladle each. That's my orders. Your Lord wants to make sure you stay sharp. Wants to make a good impression on the King. Why are you just standing staring at me? _Drink_!"

The first soldier drank his ladle and pulled a face. Lia giggled girlishly.

"The quicker you boys drink, the sooner it'll be over"

They each gulped down their ladle, as if their lives depended on it. Trying to keep a head count, Lia witnessed over thirty soldiers take a drink.

"Is that all of them?" she asked the guard

"Looks like it. They pretty much stay together down here"

The last soldier drank and then hurried off, coughing and spluttering. The guard picked up the saucepan and carried it back up the steps. Lia guessed that she had another five minutes before the plant took affect. As the guard passed his colleague, Lia decided to try her luck.

"You know, _you_ two could always try some?"

"Are you _joking_? After the faces they pulled drinking it? No thank you!"

"Oh _men_! You're all big babies. So it tastes a little… _horrible_. Within minutes, you'll feel like a young man!"

"Like a young man, you say?"

"It takes away pain and tiredness. It's well worth suffering the taste. Go _onnnn_. There's that little bit left. It would be a shame to waste it. Both of you. _Treat yourselves_"

Dipping the ladle into the last of the contents, she held it out to the guard holding the saucepan. He opened his mouth and she lifted it to his lips. He drank, cringed, but then muttered, "Don't know what they were pissing and moaning about. It's _bad_, but it's not _that_ bad"

"That's because _you two_ are _real_ men. Now it's _your_ turn"

The other guard took the ladle from her and helped himself. The two men looked at each other, as if ten years had been lifted from them instantly. Lia took the empty saucepan.

"I shall return to the kitchen. Thank you for your assistance"

"Thank _you_"

"My pleasure"

With nothing else to do, she hid inside the kitchen and waited. Four minutes passed. Five minutes passed. _Thud_. _Thud_. Glancing out of the door, she saw the two guards on the floor.

"You can come out now"

Murtagh rolled out of the cupboard and stretched his arms and back.

"You get changed. I'll move the guards"

In the time that it took Murtagh to pull the bodies into the nearest storage room, Lia was adorning her usual garb. They readied their weapons and stood at the top of the stairs.

"Are you sure you got them all?"

"_Fairly_"

"After you?"

"You are too kind"

Descending the steps with care, the first thing that they saw was a litter of unconscious bodies piled untidily across the floor. Stepping over them, they were presented with a corridor lined with cells on either side. Taking a side each, they slid open the small panels on each door. Every cell was occupied. Some of the inhabitants asleep, some alive, some tortured and some dead. Two cells were left on Lia's side. Murtagh took the end one. Lia took the second from last. Opening the panels in unison, they peered inside and hoped. Murtagh sighed. Lia smirked.

"_Rider_! What's a _nice boy_ like _you_ doing in a place like _this_?"

Eragon raced to his feet and ran to the door.

"Lia! Where is Murtagh?"

"Right here Rider"

"I have never been so glad to see you both in my life!"

"The things we must do to earn his appreciation?" Murtagh said, stepping away from the door.

"Are you going to let me out?" Eragon asked

"You never needed us for that. We just cleared the path. You have your power back Rider. Blast this door off its hinges" Lia said, as she too stepped aside from the door.

Using the words he had learned from Brom, he focused all of his will on the door and uttered _Moi Stenr jierda_!!

A huge crack split down the centre of the door and all three of them watched, as it toppled to the floor wish a loud crash. Murtagh glanced up at Lia "And you thought that I was the noisy one"

"We are ready. Call Saphira to you"

"Not yet"

Murtagh and Lia stared at him, dreading what he would say.

"Rider…?" she asked, even though she had an inclination as to what his next words would be.

"The girl. She is here. We still have time. She's in the dungeons"

"Rider!" Murtagh yelled "_No_!"

"And we free Ella"

"_Who_?" Lia asked

"_Ella_. The girl in the cell next to mine"

"Eragon! We risked our lives tonight to save _you_. Durza could arrive here at _any minute_!"

"Then we'd better _hurry !_"

Walking past them, he walked over to Ella's cell. Repeated the spell and beckoned her forward. Seeing her for the first time, she was tall. A head taller than Lia at least. She glanced over at Murtagh and Lia, who eyed her disapprovingly.

"_You should have left me_" she spoke quietly

"No. You come with us" Eragon replied firmly

Grabbing her hand, he ran towards the staircase. It went down a further level. Murtagh punched the nearest wall in rage. His knuckles bled. Lia took hold of his other hand and pulled him after them.

"_What did we do to deserve this_?" he asked between gritted teeth

"Don't think about that now. Let's just follow the lunatic!"

Racing down into the dungeons, there were three cells to chose from. Taking a cell each, Murtagh found her.

"Here is your girl Rider. Now blast the door open so we can please, _please_ get the _hell_ out of here!"

The door was blasted open. The girl lay on a bed, just as she had in his dreams. Even with all the cuts, bruises and strange black tendrils, she was a vision. Barrelling past him, Murtagh drew his knife and cut the cords that bound her. Not too delicately, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. As her hair fell away from her face, Eragon noticed a pointed ear.

"She's an elf!" he exclaimed

"Lia! I don't care if you have to beat him unconscious, will you please make him stop talking?!"

Taking hold of the back of his shirt, Lia began to pull him back up the stairs. Ella needed no such persuasion. Murtagh kept pace, even with the extra weight - which was surprisingly little. As they ran, Eragon called out to Saphira.

_Saphira! We are here! Come and get us!_

_I am on my way Little One!_

Up they ran, past the lower floor filled with slumbering soldiers and then to the ground floor. The path was clear. It was too easy, but in their desperation, they didn't care. Lia unlocked the door. They raced out into the open and came face to face with… The Shade.

"Rider and friends! How delightful! I hope I am not intruding on anything?"

Murtagh let the elf slip off his shoulders onto the ground. Both Lia and himself stepped in front of Eragon, with their swords drawn. Eragon and Ella both hoisted the elf up between them. Eragon prayed that Saphira would hurry. Through the black sky, he could not discern her shape. But he could feel her getting closer. If only they could stall him long enough.

"_Murtagh_? Murtagh is that _you_? My _my_, haven't you _grown_? And who is this _enchanting_ young woman?"

"None of your _damn_ business!" she shouted

"I was merely being polite. _Really_ Murtagh, I would have imagined you to choose a _less_ spirited woman…But then _again_, I would have imagined you to be a cloud of dust in the distance. Putting your life on the line for another? What _is_ the world coming to?!"

"Are you done talking Durza?"

"You are right of course. I just wanted to enjoy the moment. But I must ask you to step out of the way"

"Over our _dead bodies_"

"_So be it_…"

Durza raised his arms and started to chant. A wind blasted down upon them. Durza looked up to see Saphira hovering above his head. In that moment, both Murtagh and Lia reached for their daggers and threw them. Murtagh's landed in the centre of his chest. Lia's bedded itself in his forehead. Murtagh cursed. Lia grinned. Durza touched the hilts of the daggers and gave them one last evil smile, before disintegrating. Saphira landed awkwardly in front of the prison. She took in the scene and the new faces.

_Eragon! What is this?!_

_The girl. From my dream and my friend._

_Eragon I cannot carry them all!_

_Will you not try? Please!_

_Eragon!_ She protested

The sound of alarmed voices approached. She roared in anger.

_You and the two girls. Get on. _

Swivelling her gaze to Lia, she addressed her.

_Lia. I will have to carry Murtagh and you in my claws. It may hurt, but it is all I can do_

_Do what you must_

Turning to Murtagh, Lia grimaced.

"Prepare yourself for a little pain"

"More ?"

Eragon and Ella pulled the elf onto her back and both jumped on, holding tight. Rearing onto her hind legs, Saphira flapped her wings. When she was hovering above the ground, she lunged forward, grabbed Murtagh and Lia in her front claws and beat her wings all the more harder.

With all the extra weight, she could barely skim the rooftops of the buildings. From below, screams sounded and an occasional arrow was shot. Each one missed and as she made it over the city wall, she used the last of her energy to reach the top of the hill.

Dropping Murtagh and Lia from a safe distance, she landed hard and lay panting for a long while. She was relieved of the excess weight. People tried to speak to her, but her energy was all but spent. Closing her eyes, she started to slip into darkness. Exhaustion racked her body with pain, but she had done it. They had done it. Eragon was back by her side. That was all that mattered. As she drifted into sleep, she felt Eragon's hand lay against her side. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 

Ella began to wonder if she would have been better left to her solitary confinement. For despite being free, she felt not different. There was the same silence. The same chill in the air. A small fire had been lit. But for all the tension, she could feel no warmth. Her eyes were aching from staring at the ground. She risked a quick glance, before returning her sore eyes to the dirt. He was still glaring at her. Murtagh, that was his name. From the moment they had sat around the fire, he hadn't taken his eyes off her. He had even gone as far as to produce a small dagger and constantly pass it from one hand to the other. The girl, Lia, she was more subtle. But the hostility was still there. She would stare at the flames, but her eyes seemed to see through them and focus on her own.

Eragon may have saved her. Eragon may have trusted her. They did not. Could she blame them? No. But it didn't make the experience any less unnerving. She stayed quiet, trying to make sense of what was happening around her. Above all else, coming to terms with the fact that she was free…and had no where else to go.

As Saphira slept, they seated themselves around the fire. Murtagh and Lia sat on one side. On the other, Eragon sat with the elf laid out on his right and Ella seated on his left. None had uttered a word. Ella was withdrawn and Eragon only had eyes for the being of legend with pointy ears. As for Murtagh and Lia? The silence was external. Internally, all the thoughts that could not be said aloud were spoken. For a long while, Lia listened as Murtagh ranted. She did not stop him. Not once. As he fidgeted with his dagger, he eyed the girl up and down and sneered.

What has become of us? This used to be a serious travelling party! A dragon, a Rider and two warriors! People with a cause! People who could stand on their own two feet! And now we have two new additions. Of all the people in the land, he brings us an unconscious elf and some filthy convict?! What was he thinking?!

_I don't think he was... I don't think he had time_

_No time?! How many hours was he stuck in that cell?! He had plenty of time! If our Saviour actually had a brain, he would be dangerous!_

_You shan't hear argument from me_

_And… look at her!!!_

_I think you are looking at her enough for the both of us_

_She is appalling! I know we don't smell particularly pleasant. But whatever she stinks of is masking everything else! And her skin is encrusted in heaven knows how many months or years worth of dirt! How long was she in prison for? And what exactly was her crime?! Lia we know nothing about her! Talk to him! Make him see sense!_

_Why don't you talk to him!_

_Because he never listens to me!_

_You think he will hear a single word that I say? _

_Just find out why he had to drag his new girlfriend along with us! And if he had to bring a girl back, why couldn't he have chosen someone more pleasing to the eye!_

Smirking, Lia focused on Eragon, who was still oblivious to all that was not the elf.

_Eragon_

_Hmmm?_

_Eragon, what is going on?_

_I don't know. Nothing seems to wake her…_

_Not that. Not her. Regardless of her inconvenient state, there is at least a reason for her being here. But what of this Ella girl?_

_I had to save her_

_But did you have to bring her with us?_

_Where else was there for her to go?_

_I don't know. But think carefully. Just because you spent a night trapped alongside her doesn't mean that you know her_

_I know her enough_

_Well then, you won't mind telling me how long she had been imprisoned and what landed her there in the first place?_

_I don't know…_

_I'm sorry. I think I'm having difficulty hearing you. I think I misheard you because it sounded like you just told me that you don't know._

_I don't…_

_So you're telling me that you invited this girl to join us when you have no clue as to whether she poses a threat to us or not?_

_She doesn't. She is good._

_How can you say that?_

_I feel it. I just know…_

Knowing when to quit, Lia backed away and felt Murtagh's presence resurfacing. It was odd. He seemed to co-exist with her and yet, when she conversed with others, he was shut off. Another thing to be added to the long list of factors to remain unexplained.

_Well, what does the Rider have to say for himself?_

_He said…_

_Wait!…Let me guess…_

In a painfully high pitched voice, he mimicked Eragon in the most unflattering way

_I felt it in my heart!!!_

Lia's lips twisted into a wry smile. For the first time, Murtagh turned his eyes away from the escaped prisoner and raised his eyes to the sky hopelessly. He exchanged a pathetic look with Lia, before gazing at the dagger in his hands.

_Does it ever worry you that we risk our lives on a daily basis to do this idiot's bidding?_ Murtagh asked, in a half-serious and half-joking manner.

_Every day. But we do it anyway. And do you know why?_

_Because we're idiots?_

_No. Because despite all his stupidity, we know he is the one…We can feel it in our hearts…_

Lia spoke the last part in a dreamy sing- song voice and fluttered her eyelids for added effect. With no spoken words, the action seemed completely out of place. Murtagh fixed her with a horrified look.

For that, I think I am going to hit you 

It's going to be a long night. We may as well entertain ourselves somehow

And morning will arrive and then what? We have a dragon with barely enough strength to carry one person at a time. That leaves four people and only two h…

Collapsing onto his back, he slapped his hands to his face. A groan passed his lips, followed by two words "The horses!." Lia cursed, grabbed his arm and hauled him back up. Eragon, broken free from his trance by Murtagh's words, seemed irritatingly untroubled.

"We can find other horses"

"From where?" Murtagh asked through gritted teeth

Ella stared at them one by one. It was most disconcerting having three people seem to resume a conversation that she was completely unaware had taken place. She had suspected Murtagh and Lia of conversing in a similar way to Saphira and Eragon. It was their body language that betrayed them. She couldn't decide what was worse? Having people talk about you behind your back or in front of you, where you still knew what they were doing, but were unable to hear a word. Depressed, she wished she had been left behind.

"The next town or village" Eragon replied

"Rider. We cannot delay your journey any further and even if we _could _find more horses, it would be a _disaster_! We need horses accustomed to Saphira's presence. We need Snowfire and Tornac"

"But that involves going back… _again_!"

"You think you are the only one who can be stubborn? I'm not leaving here without Tornac. I'm not asking for your permission to go back. I'm telling you. And as you got us into this mess, you are damned well going to help me!"

"_Us_" corrected Lia, "And your stubbornness at least have some grounds of reason. Eragon, we cannot leave here without the horses. Saphira can carry your sleeping elf. But you are not used to running on foot for long lengths of time and your questionable colleague here probably can't take five steps without breaking into a sweat. For what you want, we need to get what we want"

Eragon glanced from the elf to Ella and then sighed. They made a fair point and they had indeed taken great risks to save him. If he could return the favour in any way, then he would.

"So we need to get back inside. But Saphira will panic if she wakes and I am not here. Then there is the question of who looks after the elf?"

Murtagh narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as if Eragon were a complete stranger, before turning to Lia and stating, " We have whatever few hours under the cover of darkens left to do this, and he chooses _now_ to give planning some serious thought?!"

"He's right about Saphira and the elf"

"And we cannot leave _her_ unattended", he added, gesturing his head towards Ella.

"And then there is the question of how you intend to enter the city with the gates closed and those very high walls", added Eragon matter of factly.

Murtagh scowled, " You're enjoying this a little _too _much Rider"

"I'm trying to be helpful. What can I say? I learned from the best" Eragon replied with a smile and a small bow of his head.

A look of careful consideration passed across Lia's face.

"Just because the Rider can't come with us, doesn't mean that he can't necessarily help us"

"You have a suggestion?" Eragon asked warily

"If I am not mistaken, one of your Rider traits is your ability to perform magic. Is it not?"

"Yes…"

"And amongst the fine array of spells that you have learned, is one of them not a simple levitation spell?"

"Yes…"

"We don't really need your help, more than we need…a lift?"

"Can he?…Can you?…Could you lift us?" Murtagh pestered Eragon

"I don't know…"

Somewhat startled by the suggestion, Eragon began to question the possibility. One of the first things he had ever learned to control his concentration was to levitate a small stone. Yes, he had progressed onto larger, heavier items. But a fully-grown person? Two young adults? The level of concentration required would be massive. And if he couldn't leave Saphria, he would have to perform the spell from a distance. The added problem being that a Rider's power also comes from his dragon…whose strength was all but depleted. He hesitated before he spoke.

"The spell is the same. I have never tried it. It would require a great deal of energy and concentration. More than what I posses"

"There must be a way," said Murtagh as he stabbed his dagger into the hard ground.

"Oh I think there is…" Lia grinned. An expression that made them all uncomfortable, but curious at the same time. Reaching into her cloak, she pulled out an item and concealed it in the palm of her hand. When she opened it, Murtagh laughed and Eragon stared at the purple root with an excited gleam in his eyes.

"You know…this just might work"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 

Stood at the top of the hill feeling like a King, Eragon watched his minions reach the city wall. As he had started to chew on the root, they had run down the side of the hill. With each chomp, he felt his fears and doubts wash away. What had he been worried about? He could levitate them if he wanted to. He could levitate the whole damn city wall if the urge took him! No. No. Just people. He had been warned that he might behave in this way. And he was ordered not to try anything else. Ordered? Him?! He took a deep breath, before he attempted anything ridiculous for the sake of pure defiance. _They're right_. _They're always right_, he kept telling himself over and over again, as every nerve in his body itched to do something energetic. He would wait for their signal and then lift them up to the walls.

Having let their built up momentum propel them down the grassy slope, they did not stop until they touched the stone wall. The moonlight shone down upon the hilltop, allowing a distinct view of Eragon's lonely figure. Murtagh stared at Lia expectantly.

"Now what?"

"We hope" Lia said simply.

"Hope? We're hoping we don't plummet to our deaths?" he replied sarcastically.

"As long as he believes he can do it, I don't think we have anything to worry about. He has new strength. It matters little from where it came. I believe the magic lies in his subconscious. He can do this"

"You'd better be right, because if he cannot…"

"We'll be dead before you could utter one single abusive word" she cut in with a dismissive wave.

Prepared to accept whatever fate awaited them, he began to raise his hand. "Wait" Lia warned, as she pulled his arm back to his side.

"_Look_" he said, whilst trying to shake off her grip, "If we are about to die, I'd rather gets this over with _quickly_"

"Stand _still_ and do as you're _told_" Lia scolded, in a tone that left him speechless and much to his disgust, awaiting her next order.

"I've just remembered something…Something from my childhood that may just help. Part your feet…_good_…Now I'm going to stand on them and hold onto you"

The previous grim expression slipped from Murtagh's face and was replaced by an all too familiar devious grin.

"My lady. You can skip the part where you stand on my feet if you'd just like to hold me?"

"Tempting as that offer may be, the general idea was for us to become one person…"

"_Finally_. You're coming round to my way of thinking"

Murtagh. Trusted partner. Fearless warrior. Loyal protector. But all that aside, still just a man.

"Not _quite_. If I stand on you, Eragon will only have to concentrate on lifting _one_ mass as opposed to _two_ separate beings"

"Then I guess you had better step on"

Delicately stepping up onto his feet, she grabbed two handfuls of the front of his cloak. Maintaining what she hoped was a respectable distance, she held herself steady. Giving her an odd look, he removed her clenched hands from his straining cloak and wrapped them around his middle.

"If you wish to hold on for dear life, at least do it properly"

With one hand, he pulled her up against him and before she could protest, he raised his other hand. The signal was given. The reality of what they were about to try hit her. Lia's arms tightened around him momentarily. The second she realised what she had done, she loosened her grip and stared at the ground and waited.

Eragon's heart began to race as the moment arrived. He had held back all his ever-increasing energy for this moment. Closing off his awareness to everything else, he shut down his mind until there was nothing but Saphira's expected presence. When his eyes opened, he stared at where Murtagh and Lia stood and thought of nothing but them. Considering how easy he was sure it was going to be, it was surprisingly difficult. With a creased brow, he pursed his lips and tried harder. The only thing that was emanating from him was his will. His will to do nothing but lift them off the ground.

Something warm trickled from his nose and across his lips. He licked it absentmindedly. It was warm and tangy. A nose bleed. It hadn't felt like the kind of effort that would cause such an occurrence. Never mind. He felt fine and he could feel it. Something was happening. He could feel them becoming lighter. It was as if his mind was equipped with two huge troll sized hands and they had just found a secure grip on his target.

Murtagh felt it first. It felt as if the ground underneath him was shifting unevenly. First, one foot jerked off the ground, causing Lia to hold onto him even tighter. Then it returned to the ground and the same thing happened to the other foot. Lia expected it this time. She relaxed her body and moved with the motion. It was easy for her. It wasn't her feet being manipulated against her will. As he thought of the million possible uses for such a spell, both his feet were lifted off the ground. Something was under him, but he could not see or feel what it was. Lia watched as they began to leave the ground behind. She raised her head and he met her "Well, we're off the ground" expression with a forced smile.

"It isn't _so_ bad" he said, before another jolt from beneath him sent them hurtling up several feet. They stopped in mid-air. It was a strange and horrible vibrating sensation. It felt as though there were two forces fighting each other. One wanted to hold them steadily and the other wanted them shooting toward the sky as fast as possible. Clinging to each other, neither dared to berate the other for their lack of courage. They were past hiding it now. They were scared and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

"Remind me. Who's bright idea was it to go back for the horses?" Murtagh asked regrettably

"_Yours_" Lia replied, with eyes half closed for fear of looking down.

"I just thought you should know, that when we die and go to hell, you have my word that I will stand still whilst you beat me to a pulp"

"Do I still have your word if we make it out of this alive?" she asked with a shaky laugh.

Before he could reply, they shot a further few feet and bit down on their tongues to suppress the yells that would have escaped otherwise.

Struggling, Eragon posed a danger to himself and his friends. Sweat was now trickling down his forehead. He was bleeding from both nostrils. But he felt alive. This energy that filled him made him want to push himself to his limits. To test his ability to the extreme. A part of him longed to send them flying as high as the skies would allow. The other wanted to assess the speed at which he could drop them onto the wall and somewhere in the back of his mind, words of caution and warning reminded him to take better care of his companions. But the task proved difficult. For instead of straining himself lifting their weight, the chore was to keep them rising at a steady pace. This battle resulted in the jerky and sudden spurts of ascent that Murtagh and Lia were suffering. Fighting himself was using more strength than he felt necessary. What if he could get them to the wall in one swift motion? Surely it would be kinder than these sudden movements? It didn't require much thought. He had already made up his mind. Focusing on sending them to an exact point on the edge of the wall, he took a deep breath and knew that he could do this.

Two minutes passed where Murtagh and Lia were suspended in the air. This may have been more comfortable, had there not have been a rather nerve wrecking drop below them. Murtagh's feet were beginning to ache from Lia's heavier than expected weight. His arms were losing feeling, where they were wrapped around her so tightly. Lia was holding onto him with a death grip. Every time she felt that he might make a comment, she gave him a threatening glare. The sad truth was that neither was willing to open their mouths. Not even to trade insults. They were sure that the second they chose to open them, they would move again and their stomachs would turn inside out.

The second minute slipped into a third. Fear was beginning to be replaced by impatience and loathing for not knowing what was happening. As the fourth minute arrived, Lia whipped her hear around and squinted at Eragon's figure and muttered irritably.

"What is taking so long?"

"He looks like he's thinking…"

"That's never a good sign"

"Oh no…" Murtagh said quietly, as an ominous shaking started beneath him.

"What?" Lia whispered hoarsely.

Murtagh pinned her to him in response. They were blasted higher and faster than before. In a few seconds, they reached the edge of the wall. The blood had rushed from their heads down to their toes. They were an impressive shade of green. But they had made it. They were alive. And they were face to face with a gawking guard. Not just any guard, but the very same that had greeted them at the gate on their past two visits. Both sides were stunned into silence. Lia broke it with an innocent smile and a little wave.

"Oh… Hello" she said politely.

"Are you staring at my wife?" Murtagh asked.

The guard gawked a few moments more, before Murtagh punched him hard in the face. The guard hit the floor, out cold.

"Darling…I never knew you cared?" Lia said with a smile

"I'm full of surprises"

"I'll say"

With their feet on a reliable, solid surface, there was no need for them to remain holding onto each other. Awkwardly, Lia stepped off his now crushed toes and hunkered down out of view. Murtagh joined her, but not before acknowledging that neither had withdrawn from each other with complete and utter disgust, as they had on previous occasions.

"Here we are… again" Murtagh stated, almost sounding bored.

"We can't seem to stay away"

"Maybe it's the romantic atmosphere?"

"Is that what it is?"

"You mock me, but you cannot deny that this place does hold a certain charm?"

"By charm, are you referring to the plenty opportunities to lie, steal, manipulate and fight?"

"_Is_ there any other charm?"

A small moan sounded from below them as the guard began to regain consciousness. He managed a baffled look, before Murtagh's elbow smashed into the side of his head. He was out. Again. Murtagh laughed.

"You know… I almost feel bad about that. He was pleasant enough. I think he may have even liked us a little?"

"Well that's the end of _that_ beautiful relationship"

A loud rumbling noise filled their ears. It had been there the whole time, but now it became more apparent. It was the collective sound of a crowd of voices shouting and talking angrily. Rising from their positions, they looked over the side of the wall. The heart of the city, all the way to the prison appeared aflame. Every inhabitant was out of bed, brandishing a torch and carrying it out into the night. Murtagh glanced at the direction of the stables.

"We have a clear run to the stables"

Lia's head darted from side to side, thinking it was too good to be true.

"Isn't it odd? Why aren't there any more guards?"

"No doubt they have just discovered the soldiers. If that is the case, then they will assume that their immediate danger is within their safe city walls. Hence why our friend was left behind to man the fort. They assumed he'd be safe"

"We don't' have long. They are acting as a mob. We should abuse this moment while it lasts"

"I have a plan"

"Speak"

"When we return to the hill with the horses, we should each grab one of Eragon's feet and swing him around by his ankles one hundred times until he passes out, vomits… or both"

"Do you have any plans regarding the horses?"

"Get the horses. Ride to the gate. Open the gate and ride the hell out of here as if the devil was chasing us?"

"It works for me"

The city wall seemed to go on forever. Below, lay a row of buildings. Murtagh assessed the distance between the wall and the rooftops. He took a few steps back, spun on his heel, raced the first few steps and leapt off the wall. Sailing through the air, he crash landed on the nearest rooftop, slid down the slope, hung himself off the gutter and then let himself drop the height of the house into a conveniently situated wagon filled with hay. After picking the hay out of his hair, he glanced up at Lia and grinned.

She shook her head at his insanity, but it was an impressive feat. There was no question as to what she was supposed to do. Following his lead, she ran and leapt onto the building. Her timing was poorly judged. Instead of landing onto the roof, her fingers just managed to catch hold of the guttering. With an eye-watering crunch, her body smashed hard against the side of the building. The impact caused her fingers to lose their hold. Falling, she landed on her back into the wagon beside Murtagh, who was beside himself with glee. He shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle a laugh, before helping her up.

"Are you alright?" he tried to ask with a straight face.

Looking slightly dazed, Lia blinked a few times, before moving all her limbs. She was going to suffer ugly bruising all down her front, but there were no broken bones.

"I'll live, if that's what you mean"

"You know… There's truth in that old saying…You really should look before you…"

"Finish that sentence and I _will_ introduce you to a whole new world of pain"

Smirking, he leapt off the wagon.

"If no one's ever told you this. I feel you should know that you look good covered in hay"

Holding out a hand, he offered to help her out. She ignored it, hopped onto the ground beside him and headed in the direction of the stables. Racing after her, he knew that her cheeks were flushed from something other than anger.

With his sleeve, Eragon mopped the dried remains of blood and sweat from his face. His idea was a success. It was worth these insignificant side effects. Even now, he was filled with an urge to do more. He turned his back to the city. Having finished playing his part, he would turn his efforts and attention to the people nearest to him. Returning to Saphira's side, he crouched down by her head and ran his hands over her large snout. From deep within, he felt a surge of warmth fill him with comfort and joy. He kissed her on the nose.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Ella sat staring into the embers of the fire, lost in thought. He took in her appearance for the first time since they had escaped. Now that she was free, she should not have to look this way. Her new beginning would be better suited looking less like a vagrant. He wished that they had more water that could be used less sparingly. Enough at least to help the poor girl wash the grime from her face. He wished that there were more he could do for her. All he needed was water. Water. Was it really so difficult? Water was, after all, an element that could be found in many things. In the clouds. In the ground. The ground? What if there was a way of drawing the water from the ground? Why not? If he could life a heavy weight, then surely he could siphon water from the ground? Kneeling on the ground, he raked his fingers through the dirt. Digging himself a small hole, he closed his eyes and pictured the water trapped beneath the earth. Then he imagined it rising through the dirt in a small, thin stream and filling the small basin that he had created. Reaching out with his senses, he attempted to feel the water. It took a few seconds, but he felt it somewhere deep below. It was there and there was plenty of it. A grin spread across his face, as he encouraged the water to rise. It was too easy. He felt it rushing towards him at great speed. Having his eyes closed, he didn't have a chance to dodge the jet of water that sprayed out from the ground. He gasped in surprise, before laughing and turning to Ella.

"Ella. Come. Freshen up"

Ella's eyes were wide with wonder as she walked towards him. He managed to steady the flow to a bubbling trickle, before indicating that it was ready for use. Dropping on all fours, Ella crawled to the side of the small hole and cupped her hands, filling them with water. Bringing her hands to her face, she scrubbed hard. Through stinging eyes, she glanced down at her blackened palms and repeated the process again and again.

Eragon watched her, as slowly but surely, the girl beneath the grime was uncovered. After she had washed her face, she poured more water over her hair, until it was soaked through and she was able to knot it into a ponytail. When she eventually turned to look up at him, her smile was wide. Her eyes filled with relief and gratitude. Their eyes met and he felt his stomach flip. She was very attractive. It was as though he was meeting her for the first time. She sensed his reaction and stood extending her hand.

"Hello Eragon. I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Ella"

Her wanted to return her smile, but he could not. This formal introduction caused the concern that Lia had brought to his attention to resurface. She was a stranger. There was no good time for him to ask her questions, but without the intimidating presence of his absent companions, this proved to be the most convenient. He exhaled deeply and looked at her hand, unable to take it. He spoke without meeting her eyes.

"Ella…You are free…You have two choices…You can go where you wish or you can come with us. If you travel with us, I cannot promise that it will be safe. But when we reach the Varden, we will have a place where we are all welcome. But if you chose to travel with us, I need to know about you. I need to know enough so that I can trust you. You know my story. If you wish to stay, you need to tell me yours"

Her hand fell to her side and she nodded her head, accepting his terms. She spoke to the ground in a calm voice. She did not feel nervous or ashamed. She had no cause to. If he did not take her, she would only be alone, as she had been for nearly a year. It made little difference. She had noting to lose.

"I am sixteen years old. I was imprisoned for a year and my crime was murder"

They raced down the deserted streets in single file, sticking to the shadows. Lia was in the lead. Murtagh followed at her heels. They were approaching the stables fast and still the crowd was far away.

They passed the last house. The stable entrance was twenty feet away. Ten feet away. A figure stepped out into the doorway. Lia came to a screeching halt. Murtagh rammed into the back of her, almost sending them both toppling over. A deep and condemning voice met their ears.

"Lia…what have you done now?"

Jacob stepped out of the doorway. His arms were folded and his gaze showed nothing but disappointment. Lia glanced over her shoulder at Murtagh, who stared at him incredulously. Noting the young man standing behind her, Jacob glared in recognition.

"You!…You're the one who hit me!"

"Apparently not hard enough" Murtagh replied with a look of distaste.

"Jacob I…" Lia began.

"Don't...Just don't…Don't say a word...It was you… All those soldiers?! Those guards?! You killed them all! Is that why you came back here?! I know the Empire is evil, but what you have done is too much! I cannot stand aside and let you pass… not this time"

"They're not dead! It was a sleeping draught!" she argued.

"Do not lie to me!" he practically yelled.

Murtagh glanced around in all directions to check that they were still alone, before throwing Lia a final look which plainly said "If you don't make him quieten down, then I will"

"I am not lying. I have only killed once before and may I remind you that it was well deserved _and_ with _your_ assistance" she added with more venom that intended.

"That was _different_. You used to be a _good _girl Lia. What happened to you?"

"I stopped being a girl the second that filthy bastard laid his hands on me. After that, I didn't want to be weak"

"You could still be good. It's not too late," he implored, hanging onto the memory of the girl he had once known.

"Yes it is…" she replied, as she removed her cloak and threw it to Murtagh, who caught it expertly.

The look of hope dropped from Jacob's face, as his eyes took in her masculine attire and her far from feminine physique. Lia was prepared for disappointment, but not the look of disgust and shock.

"_What… what are you?.. What happened to you?…you are no woman_"

The words were spat out as if he were no longer talking to a human being. The words cut her. She did not know why. Not once had she questioned or cared what another thought of her appearance. She was who she needed to be to live the type of life that she led. Had it been anyone else, she would not have reacted so. But it was Jacob. The only person that remembered her the way that she had been. Her emotion took hold of her too fast to hide from Murtagh.

Murtagh bristled with rage as he felt her reaction to his words. He could feel that these were feelings that she had never felt before. _Inadequacy. Embarrassment_. Stepping in front of her, he stared at Jacob murderously and withdrew a knife.

"Enough! You don't _talk_ to her! You don't _look_ at her! As for your questioning her _status_?! She is the _finest _woman I know. If you offend my lady, then you offend _me_ and I will _not_ stand for it!"

"So this is it Lia? This is what has become of you? Your life has gone from bad to worse and now you are with this thug?!"

"My life is better than it has been in a long time and as for me "_being_" with this thug? Yes I am… In a manner of speaking"

"Then I pity you"

The knife sailed inches past the side of his head and embedded itself in the wooden beam by his side. Paralysed by shock, he turned to see the blade buried to the hilt and began to wonder if it was deliberate or a lucky miss. Striding forward, Murtagh drew his sword and pointed it at Jacob's throat. Jacob didn't move. He only glared. Murtagh grinned maliciously.

"Not so chatty now, are we? Lia. Get the horses. As for you? Nothing would give me greater pleasure than killing you. But I have a better idea. You are going to help us. And make no mistake. One wrong move and I will kill you. She may not want you mistreated…"

"I wouldn't be so sure about _that_.." Lia muttered, as she brushed past them into the stables.

"But I won't think twice about cutting your throat"

Impressing the point, he nicked the side of Jacob's neck deep enough for a small, but steady flow of blood to trickle from the cut. Jacob's hands went protectively around his throat, as Murtagh stepped around him and plucked his knife from the beam. Tapping the flat of his blade against the back of his captive's neck, a small yelp was heard, ceasing as the sharp point pricked him again.

"You make no noise. You do as you are told and if you are a good boy, I may leave you...well…not _too_ scathed"

_Lia .You and the horses go first. I will follow with my new friend_

Very well 

Tornac's head appeared first, followed by Lia astride Snowfire. At the familiar scent of his master, Tornac snorted and bumped Murtagh with his warm nose. Murtagh chuckled softly.

"It's good to see you too my friend"

He waited for Lia to ride on ahead with the horses, before shoving Jacob forward, still at sword point. As they hurried after her, he attempted to think of nothing except opening the gates. Every time his thoughts trailed from their goal, he found himself wanting to gut Jacob like a fish. Unable to, he consoled himself by nicking the back of his neck every time he wasn't moving fast enough. He did it a little more than necessary. It was not like he would bleed to death. Although for the way he had made Lia feel, it would not have been undeserved.

Riding ahead, Lia tried her hardest not to feel the way that she did. It made her sick to her stomach that she had allowed him to upset her so. She never knew such a reaction to words existed. Aware of Murtatgh's growing anger, she spoke to him through their bond.

_We are nearly there. Have you left enough of him to live?_

_I just need him to help me open the gate. After that, I could not care less what fate he suffers_

_Don't…Don't be too hard on him_

_Were you not there when he spoke to you?!_

_It is not his fault. He is ignorant and naïve and has changed..we both have_

_I swear Lia…If you did not order me so… I'd… I'd.._

_Murtagh…_

_What?_

…_Thank you_

Her words soothed his anger and the urge to skewer Jacob was …a little less. They soon reached the gate, where Lia waited with the horses. Pushing him forward once more, Murtagh sent him colliding into the gate.

"Lift the barrier and open the gate for us… Now"

Grumbling, Jacob did as he was told. It took a few minutes. The gates were heavy and it was a two-man job. But Murgagh was having none of it. He wanted Jacob to do it all. When the gates were open enough for them to ride through, he ordered Jacob to stop.

"That is enough. Thank you. For without your help, we never would have been able to escape"

Murtagh turned to hoist himself up onto Tornac. That was the moment Jacob chose to lunge at him. He managed a single step, before a searing pain tore through his thigh. He stared down to see a dagger wedged deep, blood pouring out. His leg became limp and he fell to the floor.

If Murtagh heard a noise, he did not show a grain of interest in what had just happened. Getting into the saddle, he stroked Tornac's neck before glancing to his side to see a furious looking Lia.

"Attacking a man when his back is _turned_?! And _I_ disgust _you_?!"

"_You_…You _stabbed_ me?!"

"I should bloody kill you for that! But as it happens, I think I'll leave you to rot! So for every day that passes, you can live with the knowledge that you helped me get away with murder... again!"

"You _admit_ it!"

"_Goodbye_ Jacob", she said sadly, before flicking the reigns and riding off. Murtagh stared after her. He knew where she was headed, so he had a few moments. He slid from the saddle, marched to where Jacob lay and kicked him flat on his back. With his foot, he held him firmly to the ground. Reaching for the dagger still sticking out of his thigh, he grabbed the hilt. However, instead of pulling it clean out, he twisted it first. A loud scream filled the air and Murtagh knew it was time to make haste.

"I couldn't let her waste a good dagger now, could I?"

Jumping back onto his horse, he left the writhing and tearful Jacob thrashing on the floor. It did not take long for him to catch up with Lia. They rode up the hill with ease. The horses had been cooped up in the stable and well fed. They were now eager to move once more.

Jacob's single scream pierced through all the other sounds of the night. Lia knew it had been his. She was torn between disapproval and satisfaction.

_What just happened?_

_I retrieved your dagger_

_What did you do to him?_

_I left him a little something to remember us by_

_How little?_

_Let's just say that I don't think he will be running home to his mother any time soon… or walking for that matter…_

A sense of fulfilled vengeance. She didn't agree with the elation this act had brought her, but it was as though some small justice had been served. Putting all thought of the city behind them, they rode hard and fast, wishing for nothing more than the chance to rest and leave this place.

Eragon would not pass judgement on Ella until she had told him her story. She confessed the nature of her crime so easily. It could have meant one of two things. That she was a natural killer who showed no remorse, or that the person who she had killed had truly deserved it. Murder? It chilled him that she was capable of such a thing. Eragon himself had never killed, unless in self-defence. His urge to kill Durza was different. Justified. Then he wondered if every murderer thought of their actions in a similar way? Casting these thoughts aside, he would give Ella the benefit of doubt, before he outright refused her company.

"Why?" he asked

"There isn't much to tell. But I suppose if I had to start somewhere, it would be with my father. He was a simple man. Hard working. He was unmarried and happy that way. He was however, a womaniser. And as these things go, he ended up one night with a woman at his door holding what was apparently his child. She dumped me in his arms and left without a word. My father was not a cruel man and if she would not have me, then he would. But he could not afford to work and look after a child. Therefore he adopted a less honest way of living. He tried his luck at gambling and for a few years, we moved around a lot and he kept us fed and clothed with his winnings. But years passed and his luck ran out. His tricks no longer worked and he slowly ran out of coin to use. It was a desperate time. He wad forced to borrow money for his addiction. Money that then could not be paid back. It wasn't long before he had made such a name for himself, that no one would lend him a single penny. And then there were those who sought repayment. By this time, we were reduced to stealing to survive.

Gil' Ead was our last hope of a new life where our reputations did not proceed us. We never realised we had been followed. We never knew of the bounty on my father's head. One night we were walking along the streets seeking shelter, when a man leapt from the shadows and ran my father through. He never knew what happened. He just looked at me one last time and slumped over, dead.

I was in shock. I was distraught. I didn't think about what I was doing. I had a small dagger that I had been given when I was younger for my protection. I ran at the man and stabbed him in his side. He was so surprised that he let go of his sword. Then I jumped on him and stabbed him again… and again… and again. I don't remember how many times. I lost count. I just remember crying and plunging it back and forth, until someone grabbed hold of my arm. I looked up. A crowd of people surrounded me. All they could see was me with a bloodied knife and two dead bodies. They didn't ask me what happened. They locked me up and told me the penalty. I didn't argue. Maybe I deserved it? Maybe the man that killed my father was just forced to do a job that earned coin to care for his own family? Either way, the deed is long done.

Make of it what you will. I was grief stricken and scared and it released a side of me that I cannot say I liked. But you of all people should understand what it feels like to lose someone you love? I cannot tell you that I am a good person, but nor am I evil. I have done things that I am not proud of. But I think that we all suffer that guilt. I am not a danger to you or your cause. You know my wrongs. Now it is your choice. Do I take a seat or do I take a walk?"

He stared deep into her eyes and saw nothing but honesty there. Yes, he could see why she had done what she did. It was the brutality in which the act was committed that disturbed him the most. Did this change his opinion of her? Did this make her seem less in his eyes? Oddly no. She had told him the truth. He now knew more about her than he did of both Murtagh and Lia. If he could trust them, then he could give her a chance. He wanted to believe that she was no threat. If worse came to worse and he was wrong and she turned on them. He had two people who would be more than able to deal with her. Lifting his arm from his side, he stretched out his hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you Ella, will you sit?"

"It would be my pleasure"

Sitting back down, they heard the galloping of horses. The first thing that Murtagh noticed was the new girl that seemed to have replaced Ella. A quick glance at Lia's face told him that he was not the only person that was unsure what to make of the sudden disappearance. Dismounting, they led the horses to stand by the sleeping dragon. His expression was one of confusion. Lia's was almost scared.

_What is it?_

N... nothing… 

_You look white as a sheet!_

When she didn't answer, he gave the girl a quick once over and asked Eragon the obvious question.

"Eragon… who is this?"

"This is Ella"

"How is this the same girl?"

"The healing powers of a wash" Eragon said with a grin

"Where did you get enough water?", he asked, before adding "No offence intended"

It was hard to believe that this was the same girl. This girl was pretty. But the amount of water he guessed that would have been needed well exceeded their current supply. And if they were out of water, they were in trouble. They were lucky to get back inside the city a third time. A fourth time would be impossible. Reading his mind, Eragon put his mind at ease.

"I did it. I drew water from the earth. I do not know if the power was my own of given to me from the root. But I think it will prove a useful ability when we cross the desert."

"The power is all yours Rider. The root just gave you the confidence you required"

Taken aback by the supportive words, Eragon stammered.

"I guess you are right… So... Tomorrow we head for the desert. Lia. Do you carry any more root with you?…Lia?…Lia?"

She didn't hear a word any of them had said. Her eyes rested on the girl. There was no one else. Memories. Old. Painful. Happy. Sad. They swamped her and threatened to stop her beating heart. It was too cruel. It should not have happened. Not here. Not now. She wanted to look away, but her eyes would not move. For all the sorrow, she could not turn away. Someone called her name. Eragon. He had asked her something. She merely shook her head, broke her gaze and stalked away into the darkness. Rising to his feet and concerned by her action, Eragon made as to follow her. He walked forward until Murtagh's hand gripped his shoulder.

"I'll go…"

Nodding, Eragon sat back down. Questioning Eragon had been difficult. The words came out easily, but he had been distracted. Something about Ella had caused Lia to be afraid. A fresh, emotional pain had almost brought tears to his eyes. Blinking angrily, he hoped that they had been unnoticed. He had to know what was wrong.

Walking away from the light of the fire, he followed into the darkness in the direction that Lia had taken. He continued, until when he turned to face the camp, the fire was a small glow behind him. Lia was close. He could sense her. She was aware of his presence and she made no attempt to move. Somewhere in front of him, she waited. Moving towards her, he reached out like a blind man, until his hand brushed her back. His hand froze. She was shaking. Her shoulders heaved up and down and he realised that she was… _crying_. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. Should he move his hand? Should he keep it there? As he contemplated what exactly he should do. She spoke in his mind.

_I thought I was strong…_

_You are_

_I went back to the Inn…I saw Jacob…We didn't speak a word after our nightmares…I was doing so well…And then I saw her…_

_What is it about her?_

She… She reminds me of my sister… My dead little sister… 

He didn't think. He just turned her around by her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. She buried her face into his chest and sobbed hard. There was nothing he could do except hold her, resting his chin on top of her head. The sobs died down, but she remained where she was. Standing in complete darkness; held by the one person she never would have dreamed she would allow.

_Seeing her…It made me remember her. She was so sweet. So little. Had she ever grown up, that is how I would have imagined her. I thought I had come to terms with their loss. I have done so much. It was so long ago. But this… after all that we have endured these past few days…It is too much…_

_I know it hasn't been easy… On any of us_

_I know…_

She wiped the tears from her face, stepped out of his arms and tugged at his sleeve.

_We should go back…I am fine… I am sorry you had to…_

_Don't apologise_

Her hand dropped to his, giving it a squeeze, before leading him back to the camp. Neither gave the gesture any thought. It was dark. It stopped them losing each other. But when the fire and figures sat around it came into view, they let go. Lia stood in front of Eragon, with her back to Ella.

"I apologise for leaving suddenly. I was not feeling myself. I am better now"

"Now what happens?"

"Now we rest. Tomorrow we head for the Hadarac. Sleep. All of you. That includes you Murtagh. I will keep watch. I have rested too much already"

Taking his place by Saphira's side, Eragon curled up and fell asleep. Ella lay down on her side and closed her eyes. Her thoughts began to evaporate as sleep clouded her mind. The last thought that nagged at her was her wonder as to why on earth Lia had stared at her as if she were a ghost? Then sleep took her.

Watching over her fellow travellers, Lia's eyes finally rested on Murtagh, who had his back to her and his head resting on his rolled up cloak. He was not asleep. His thoughts and feelings were in a tangle. She tried to focus on her own, so as not to intrude. Although there was one emotion that came through more than any other. Concern. He was concerned about her. This was quickly followed by anger at himself and then concern once more.

Her own thoughts were just as confused. In three days, they seemed to have grown. They had shared things that neither would have dreamed of and events had made them…more dependent on each other. The thought both sickened and worried her. For so long she had been on her own. Independent. As had he. And now, something was happening. This bond. Their pact. They were becoming inseparable in almost everything that they did. It was against everything that they were and yet, there seemed no way to fight it. Murtagh fell into a deep sleep. Lia smiled weakly. She wished them all a peaceful sleep, for when they next woke, the race to reach the Varden would finally begin.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 

First there was darkness. That wonderful safe, black blanket that was deep sleep. Then there came the smallest, softest sound. A chuckle. The dark began to shimmer and swirl at the disturbing noise. The chuckle was joined by a giggle. Defeated, the darkness disintegrated, as roaring laughter joined the ensemble.

Once more, Eragon was walking down the beaten path to Carvahall. It could have been any other normal day from his past. Walking to the village with Roran by his side. But there were some differences. Some rather noticeable differences that reminded him only too well that this was just another dream. Another strange dream. Even here, basking in the sunshine and breathing in the fresh air that didn't exist, he found himself wondering if this was some after effect of whatever was done to him by the Ra'zac.

Roran strode by his side. A wide grin spread across his face and the reason for it evident – Katrina was holding his hand. They did not speak. They stole secret glances and giggled in the way that only young couples in love do. Smirking, Eragon looked away. He felt that he posed an invasion of their privacy. On the other hand, all sides seemed content with each other's company. The mood was relaxed and lazy. The atmosphere was calm and quiet. Until the sound of pounding feet pierced this peaceful bubble.

Out of no where, Lia barrel rolled into view, landing flat on her back at their feet. Laughing hysterically, Eragon could think of nothing else to do except join in. Murtagh appeared seconds later, as she started to sit herself up and tackled her back down to the ground. Like a couple of young boys, they wrestled and rolled around in the dirt and thoroughly enjoyed every second. Carefully edging their way around them, Roran gave a backward glance and nudged Eragon in the ribs.

"_Interesting_ friends cousin" he said with a raised brow

Eragon gave them one final look and snorted a laugh.

"You have no idea"

"Do they do that often?"

"Fight? Yes. But it's usually more brutal. They are actually rather serious"

"I wonder why you see them this way in your sleep?"

"I haven't a clue. I wonder why I see you with Katrina tonight?"

"It's daytime cousin"

"Not where I am"

"And as for why you see Katrina here with me? I'm not complaining!"

"I didn't think you would"

"Although…she's laughs a lot…but she hasn't spoken much…"

"She hasn't spoken at all"

They both turned to look at Katrina. A pretty girl in her own way. She held fast to Roran's hand. A small smile on her lips. She met Roran's eyes and blushed, but did not utter a word. Eragon shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Roran gave him an apologetic look.

"I guess I shouldn't complain…She's here… that's what matters"

The village was now in sight. Just as he remembered. Already, he could see smoke rising from the chimneys. Hear the shouts of irate parents and the chatter of misbehaving children. The bangs and clangs of people working their trades. These familiar sounds. The sounds of home. He wanted to enjoy the moment. He wanted it to last. His own two feet would not obey him; afraid of what he might find if he proceeded onward. Surely it was too good to be true. It had to be. If there was one thing that Eragon had learned, was that pleasant things were not meant to last.

On cue Roran cleared his throat suggestively and poked a finger in Eragon's side. Glancing down at his hand, he saw that it was open expectantly. Giving Roran a puzzled look, he received an impatient and deliberate gesturing of his cousin's head towards his pocket. Still oblivious to the reason behind these actions, Roran mouthed two words, "_The ring_". The ring? _The ring_! The one that Roran had previously given him. But it was in a dream! Even Roran knew he was part of this dream! What made him think that he could honestly keep a hold of such items?! Trying nonetheless, Eragon reached into his pocket and as expected, found nothing. He could feel Roran's eyes boring into him. Shame crept up on him. Then he felt rather silly. It wasn't like he had control of these events? But it was Roran. And looking up to see the disappointment in his eyes was too much to bear.

A burning scent was carried on the air. Both Roran and Eragon rotated on the spot to see the source. As they did so, Katrina began to fade away. Roran stopped what he was doing and stared at her fearfully.

"Katrina? Katrina?! KATRINA!?", Roran began to shout.

Eragon stood, feeling helpless and powerless as he watched his cousin try to prevent the girl of his dreams from leaving his side. Roran turned and glared at him. The accusation in that one look made Eragon's gut wrench.

"_What have you done?! What is wrong with her_?!"

She was still smiling, as Roran tried to grab hold of her. To make her stay. But she was transparent now and disappearing fast. Roran's flailing arms passed right through her and as her smile turned into a look of terror, she was gone. Just like that. For Roran, the world stopped turning. He froze. His outstretched fingers still reaching for the girl that wasn't there.

The stench of combusting wood became stronger and a glow caught Eragon's eye. Before he turned his head, he knew what he was about to see. He did not know which was worse to endure. Unwilling to meet Roran's eyes, he turned them to the village. The village, which had been perfect, was now aflame. Flames engulfed every building, licking the sky above. A thick black smoke hung above the place which he had once considered part of his home. There were screams of pain. Cries of agony. Carvahall! Carvahall was burning! He wanted to look away. He couldn't. He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He could hardly breathe. What was this?! Was this a _nightmare_?! Was it _real_?! _Why_?!

"_Why did you leave us to suffer this fate Eragon_…"

Roran's voice was low, raspy and filled with anger. Eragon had never heard him talk like this before. But it was the words that cut him to the core. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell Roran everything. They had never had any secrets. Not until now. He tried to open his mouth. It was no good. Nothing else existed except for the flames. This _couldn't _be real. This _had_ to be some nightmare.

"_THEY BURNED OUR HOMES AND TOOK KATRINA BECAUSE OF YOU!_" Roran roared in rage, and then pulled his arm back to swing a punch. Too shocked to move, Eragon waited for the collision. He accepted it and almost welcomed it. If this was real. If all that he saw and what was said to him was true, than this was the least he deserved.

Roran's closed fist barely brushed against his chin, when he awoke with a start. His eyes were open wide. He didn't want to close them. He didn't want to blink. If he closed his eyes, he would see it all over again. Only one thought passed through his mind over and over again: was it real? His hand moved on it's own accord to his pocket. He didn't know why. Digging deep, his fingers brushed against something. Something that made his innards turn to ice. A ring. Roran's ring. If the ring was real, then…

Lia was running through the forest. Why and how she got there remained unanswered. She considered it a blessing. It was that time. That time when she wanted nothing more than…No. She would run. She would run and exhaust herself, leaving her too tired to think. So she ran. On and on. Round and round. The forest seemed never ending. Every inch of it looked exactly the same as the last. She had an inkling that she was running around in circles and that this forest was a lot smaller than it appeared to be. But stopping would mean admitting defeat. Acknowledging her condition. She knew that this was neither the time nor the place.

A flash of fur caught her eye. Her pace faltered. She was sure that she had been alone. The forest itself seemed devoid of all life. There were no birds singing. The only sounds were the whispering wind through the trees and the crunching of her feet on the ground. And now there was something else. Something fast. Something that wanted to remain hidden. She saw it again. On the other side. Whatever it was, it was following her. Was it dangerous? Was she even armed? She dared not slow down to check herself for weapons. She ran harder and faster. Her limbs ached. Her lungs burned. But her breathing was steady. She could outrun this creature. Or wear it out. None of this made sense, so she spared it no thought. Survival instinct took over.

So sad… 

The voice in her head nearly had her stumbling over her feet. A strange voice. It belonged to neither of the two whom she would have recognised. This voice was smooth, confident and didn't seem very _sad_ at all. This time, she stopped running. Running away from herself and her own personal issues was one thing. Running away from another? Out of the question. Someone else was here. Someone else and some creature. She would worry about the creature when it next appeared. As of that moment, the owner of this voice was her main cause for concern.

"Who are you?" Lia called out

Someone… 

"Show yourself!"

Her demand was met with laughter. The laugh of a child echoed around her. Left. Right. Up. Down. She looked, but saw nothing.

We have met… 

Struggling to place the voice to a face, Lia could not remember any such person. She felt that if had she met the owner of this voice, she would have remembered. Whilst she searched her memory, the voice continued to speak.

_A difficult path lies ahead of you… Your choices will be hard…The timing in which they are made, sudden…I will be curious to see what becomes of you Lia… For at this moment, you remain a mystery to me…Your destiny is unclear… But the choices you make will determine the fate that befalls you and others_

Lia heard the words, but stored them in a part of her mind where she could consider their meaning at a more appropriate time. No amount of so called revelations would cause her to drop her guard. A flash of fur appeared on the other side once more and Lia reached for her dagger that wasn't there.

"I can take no more than one day at a time stranger. Whatever destiny awaits me, so be it. Whatever choices I need to make, I will worry about them when the time comes. Your words do not frighten me. I can only do what I can and I know that whatever I do, it will be with the power and life invested in me"

_I like you girl… we will meet again_

The childish laughter sounded once more and then it was gone. Lia spun around. The presence was gone. She didn't know how she knew, apart from the fact that she felt it. Alone. Whatever it was. It had left. It had left her with her thoughts and… The sensation caused her heart to beat faster. A tingling sensation coursed through her body, finding its way to the tips of her fingers. Her hands began to twitch. Her fingers urged to fiddle with something. It was making her feel aggressive, impatient, intolerant and insufferable. If she could just be here until it passed. No one would see. No one would comment on her behaviour and no one would be vulnerable. With nothing to help her ease her frustration, she began to rub her arms furiously. The more she rubbed, the hotter her skin became and she was convinced that she would be unable to stop until her skin was raw.

Like she had previously known that she was alone, she now knew that someone was behind her. She heard nor saw nothing. It was a feeling. A horribly familiar feeling. She knew who it was and she stared at the heavens, cursing whoever thought it entertaining to send him here. For of all the people, he was the last she would consider. It felt like an eternity. Her standing there. Him behind her. Not a single word spoken. She was strong. But the feeling would not subside. Her urge would not die down and now, with a compatible body in her peripheral, her body was responding in the only way it could. Against her will, her feet turned her around. She tried to turn her eyes aside, but her head rose to force her gaze upon him.

Looking into his eyes, her own needs were mirrored in his hungry stare. She paid great attention to the bead of sweat that trickled down the side of his face. She followed it, as it slid from his cheek. It dropped. But she never saw it land. Her eyes refused to move from his suddenly bare middle. He had been fully clothed! How had his tunic disappeared into think air?! And why on earth could she not stop staring at his perfect torso! She had tried. She really had. But from this moment forth, any effort was futile. The need had taken over. Her body would not listen to her brain. They were alone. No one would ever know. No one would ever find out. It was an act. That was all. There was no meaning to it. It was a perfectly healthy and natural requirement. They didn't see each other. Murtagh and Lia didn't exist here. They were two beings fuelled on animal instinct alone.

Murtagh yawned and stretched his arms over his head. He hadn't slept as much as he would have liked, but he refused to let Lia take the full watch. Ella was asleep. The elf was still unconscious. Eragon? He appeared to be sleeping, but Murtagh was unsure. The way in which Saphira stared at him made him think he was merely feigning rest. Saphira had been awake for almost an hour. Although he could not communicate with her, he observed her manner. Upon waking, she had seemed panicky. He expected that she had never intended on resting for so long. But once her eyes rested on her Rider, she settled; unblinking and never moving her eyes from his still form.

And then there was Lia. Fast asleep. Dreaming. Dreams were still a safe place for the both of them, for which he was eternally grateful. Dreams were a private affair. They often meant nothing and related to little. Or so he hoped. Whereas dreams remained impenetrable, emotions still leaked through. He tried to ignore them at first, thinking it rude. But after a while, it was the only form of amusement he could find. He may have felt guiltier if she had been awake, but he could play this small game.

The first thing he sensed was her determination. She was determined to do something. There was a great sense of denial. She was determined to avoid something. Then it stopped. She was wary. On her guard. On edge. This lasted for a few minutes and then he felt it. The feeling she had been avoiding. It swept over her so suddenly and completely. He was more than familiar with the sensation. He was a male after all! But to sense it so strong and desperately in a woman? He had never known it. Her feeling was growing stronger and stronger. With everyone asleep or distracted, he could afford to grin like a child.

Lia gave in. Murtagh advanced on her. She beat him to it, leaping into his strong arms. Wrapping her legs around his middle, he pulled her up against him. Her lips were about to touch his. Something inside her brain registered the fact that this couldn't possibly be allowed to happen. Before she did anything that she may regret, her consciousness pulled her back to reality. She was awake. It had been a dream. All of it. The people, the voice, the needs. She let her tense body relax.

Good dream? 

It wasn't the words, but the way in which he said them that gave her the distinct impression that he knew something of what she had seen in her slumber. Maybe she could pretend that she hadn't heard him.

Anyone I know? 

She remained calm. Even the slightest reaction would give her away. He most certainly did _not_ need another factor to enhance his already massive ego. If he ever found out, she would eternally be the subject of his taunts. She would not react. She would never let him know. Sitting herself up, she raked her fingers through her knotty hair and eyed him up and down critically.

_You look how I feel_

_Do you feel that good?_

Rising to her feet, Lia decided that they had had enough fun and games for one morning. It was bright and early and high time that they were all awake. She carefully stepped past Ella and the elf, but made a point of slapping Murtagh up the side of the head as she walked past. She felt his blood boil in annoyance. Smiling to herself, she took pride in her distraction tactics.

_What was that for?!_

_For being so damn cheerful first thing in the morning_

Sweeping her hair back over her shoulders, she set about preparing breakfast for then all. Murtagh rubbed the top of his head, but didn't say a further word. He knew when enough was enough... eventually. Receiving the message, he too set about readying the camp for their journey ahead. Lia saw to the food. Murtagh saw to the horses. Heading towards Tornac and Snowfire, he walked past the stooping Lia and placed a hand on her shoulder. Immediately regretting the spontaneous action, he withdrew his hand. He expected her to turn and aim one of her killer glares in his general direction. Instead, he felt the smallest hint of gratitude. After this brief exchange, they focused on their tasks at hand.

Eragon could feel Saphira's concerned stare upon him. He had known that she had been awake for a while, but he was still too troubled by his dream to think of anything else. He knew that there were more serious matters at hand, but the image that he had seen was now imprinted on the back of his eyelids. It was a dream. That was all. There had to be a logical explanation. Maybe Murtagh would be able to shed more light on it? And if it wasn't a dream? He swallowed hard. If it wasn't, there was little he could do about it. He was far from home. Hunted from all sides of the Empire. What was done was done. If Carvahall truly had perished in flames, there was nothing he could do about it. It was a situation that was out of his hands. His feelings of guilt would not save them now. The only way he could make any of their suffering worth while would be to reach the Varden. Too many people had suffered voluntarily and without a choice because of his mission. He would not live knowing that it had been in vain.

He could feel Saphira's desperation to question him endlessly about his state of mind and the night's events and he loved her even more for refraining from uttering a word. She sensed his need for privacy and respected it. That their bond had matured to such a degree spoke volumes regarding all they had been through. He would tell her in time. He just needed a few more minutes to clear his head. A few more minutes to suffer in silence.

Saphira turned her attention from her Rider to Lia. Whilst Eragon was in this frame of mind, she would not trouble him. She could see that he was unharmed. For now, that would have to suffice. Lia was placing sensible portions of their provisions onto four plates, when she heard Saphira's call.

_Good morning Lia_

Lia turned her head and smiled at the dragon. She had known that Saphira was awake, but knew that her priorities lay first with her Rider. Knowing she would be questioned, Lia was prepared.

_Good morning Saphira. How are you feeling?_

_I feel strong_

_Good_

_Lia… I cannot thank you and Murtagh enough for your constant dedication. Without you both, I would not have my Rider by my side_

_There is no need to thank us. It was out honour and privilege_

_Let it not be said that you chose your words poorly_

_I daresay I won't_

_What of whilst I slept? What happened?_

_Your Rider remained by your side with our new companions. Murtagh and I returned to the City to retrieve the horses._

A wise move, but dangerous none the less. Is either of you hurt? 

_No more so than usual_

_And what of these new additions?_

_In this area, we are as informed as you. The girl called Ella resided in the cell beside Eragon. He trusts her and wishes to take her to the Varden with us. And the dream girl is in fact an unconscious elf; of which we know nothing_

_My Rider… bringing mayhem… as always_

Saphira's voice was filled with such affection that Lia could not help but agree with the words with a grin.

_Well then…are we ready for the journey ahead?_

_I don't think we will ever be ready. But we're certainly lacking the sanity to say no_

_That's the spirit. I will wake Eragon._

_I shall wake Ella_

Murtagh could feel it. Lia and Saphira were conversing. He imagined the questions that would be asked and wondered whether Lia would tell the entire truth or tactfully omit some details that might shine a bad light on them. He guessed that Saphira would not take to the news of her Rider experimenting with his magic without her aid too kindly. The horses were ready. Strolling over to the plates, he took one for himself and watched Saphira nudge Eragon and Lia approach Ella.

Deep inside one of the best night's sleep she had had in a long time, Ella was woken abruptly by a sharp shake of her shoulder. Squinting up, she could make out the shape of Lia looming above her.

"Rise and shine" , Lia said in a flat tone

"How long did I sleep?", Ella asked groggily

"Not long enough. But none of us have, so you'd better get used to it"

Turning on her heel, Lia marched off without the slightest ounce of sympathy. Ella wanted to speak her mind. Confront the girl for her manner towards her. All she had done was ask a simple question. The way in which she was treated was uncalled for. But she supposed that she was still a stranger to them. Still a potential threat. And Lia was some kind of warrior. As was Murtagh. She could not expect to merely receive their respect. She would have to earn it. Considering that her brain was still fogged by sleep, she was impressed that she was capable of rational though. Sitting herself up, she waited for the one friendly face to rise.

At Saphira's gentle touch, Eragon rolled onto his front and laid his eyes upon hers. They had so much to say to each other and no time in which to say it. They understood this and took comfort in the fact that they were together again and that was all that mattered.

Lia placed a plate before Eragon and passed one to Ella. When she held her own, she seated herself beside Murtagh. They ate in silence. Uncomfortable and tense. It wasn't the company. It was the fact that this was the day that they had been waiting for. The last and most dangerous step. When the final plate was collected, cleaned and put away, Eragon produced his map and once again, they all crowded around. Glancing to Lia, she waved her hand over the vastness of the Hadarac desert and then pointed a finger at the mountain range beyond it.

"The Varden lies amongst the Beor Mountains. But it is a long journey. It is open with almost no cover. There will be no place to run or hide. Food will be limited and sparse. Enjoy the meat while it lasts because once we run out, we will survive on what vegetation we can find. Then there is the question of water…"

Lia waited for Eragon to make the suggestion. He was grateful for her approach to the situation. Saphira didn't need to know all the events of the previous evening just yet. He cleared his throat. Catching sight of Murtagh's amused expression, he put on an innocent voice, which caused Lia to cringe. Ella caught the gist of what was happening and held an interested expression. Seeing her more helpful attempt at making him seem more convincing, he felt great affection towards her.

"I have been thinking…I have an idea… It just might work"

When did you think of this? Is it safe? 

_I thought of it last night. Will you help me?_

_Of course_

Without words, he projected a series of images depicting what he wanted and how he wished to achieve it. Saphira seemed sceptical at first, but as this was a matter of their survival, she did not question the chances of its success just yet. Using the same technique as before and with a little extra help from Saphira's will, Eragon called forth a small stream of water from the ground. Saphira radiated pride. To his relief, Murtagh and Lia looked as impressed as Ella. With the demonstration over, he could relax and let Lia take over once more.

"Excellent Rider. You can provide water. I can find our food. That leaves travel arrangements. Will Saphira carry the elf?"

Saphira dipped her head in agreement. Murtagh gazed at Tornac reluctantly and sighed, before speaking his mind.

"Eragon. You and the girl take the horses"

"Murtagh and I will run"

"We can take turns if you wish?" Eragon suggested fairly

"You needn't worry about us Rider. We shall all need to rest more frequently than normal. To over exert ourselves under the scorching sun would be a fatal mistake", Lia added with certainty.

Murtagh rose to his feet. Lia joined him. Ella waited, as Eragon remained seated. _This is it_, he thought. From the second I stand, it begins. He looked up into the faces of his comrades. Ella looked a little confused. She could not possibly understand. Murtagh and Lia understood only too well. Their eyes shone with a grim determination that showed empathy, support and provided him with the motivation he needed. He stood. It began.

They each assumed responsibilities without discussion. Murtagh led Tornac over to Ella and grudgingly handed him over to her. Lia helped Eragon secure the elf to Saphira's back and Ella, unused to group work, decided it best to stay quiet and out of the way. Once Saphira was up in the air and both horses were mounted, the party began to move. Saphira flew ahead, checking the land for foes. The horses galloped along the flat land and thirty feet behind them, Lia and Murtagh ran side by side at a break neck pace.

Two weeks passed where they continued to journey across green land. Two uncomfortable weeks that they knew were only just the beginning. During this time, they ran harder and faster than ever before. Conversation was little between dragon and Rider, Murtagh and Lia or Ella and Eragon. No one wanted to talk. They just wanted to reach the desert. They knew this was too good to savour. Being on healthy land, they were still accustomed to the treat of rabbit. It would not last and they did not wish to get used to it. Due to their determination, they rested little throughout the day and progressed quicker than they hoped.

Their days consisted of running, riding and flying with a possible three stops. These lasted no more than fifteen minutes each to rest their legs, stretch their legs or in Saphira's case, close her wings for a short while. The evenings saw Lia lighting the fire, Murtagh hunting, Lia finding plants and Eragon and Ella sitting silently, feeling rather redundant. Each night, Murtagh came back with less as the wildlife grew sparser. Lia considered it a good thing. Easing them into the transition of a time when meat would not longer be available.

If the days were long, boring and tedious, the evenings were worse. What little banter they had enjoyed on previous journeys was gone. Murtagh was ill at ease and remained in his own thoughts. Lia's tolerance seemed to have disappeared and she became irate at times, especially when something involved Ella. Eragon, who didn't want to cause any more tension than necessary didn't question her attitude, but he could see that Lia harboured a definite grudge against his new friend. Ella would offer to help in ways and would be shunned or outright refused. Although Lia's reasons were perfectly understandable, they way that she presented them gave the air of Ella being next to useless. Eragon knew deep down that it was not meant in this way, but he could see the fury slowly building up behind Ella's eyes. Murtagh said nothing and neither would he. If there were a problem between the both of them, they would have to sort it out themselves. As long as they remained fairly civil toward each other, there was no need to feel concerned.

As the second week of their journey slipped into the third, the grass under their feet gave way to drier ground, and eventually, the sand of the desert. Almost immediately, all travellers felt the effects of the sudden change in environment. Here, it was three hours before the two runners experienced the first signs of fatigue. There was no competition. No urge to outrun the other and no shame in feeling the discomfort of their labour. Their minds were beginning to swim from dehydration and lack of oxygen. They slowed from a run, to a sprint, to a jog and finally to a walk.

The cloudless sky left nothing to stop the unforgiving sun from beating down on them. The air was thin. The breeze was warm. It was humid as well as hot. Their clothes stuck to them. Their body odour filled the air. Their mouths were dry. Murtagh wiped his hand across his forehead and flicked it away from him, watching the sweat dripping from his fingers. Lia licked her lips and tasted the tang of her own sweat and the cracked skin of her lips. It was at times like these that they were glad of their link, for talking in their present state was more painful than they could have imagined. Each breath they took tickled the back of their throats and their lips were cracked to the point of bleeding. Murtagh thought of an entertaining comment to make regarding their appearance, a smile started but soon stopped as it hurt too much. However, it was not too much hard work to frown and glare up at the sun, that was causing them so much trouble. Lia stared up at the dot in the sky that was Saphira. Murtagh nodded.

_Saphira… we need to rest…for a short while_

And so they did. Saphira told Eragon and Ella to wait for their approach and when they were all together, Eragon called forth water for them to revive themselves. With muttered thanks, they each took turns to drink their fill and splash water on their faces. It restored a little good mood, but their bad tempers soon returned. This first day on the desert was worse than they could have imagined. Every two to three hours, they rested and each time, their tempers grew shorter and they looked and smelled even worse. But they struggled on and held their pace, regardless of the growing rage and exhaustion.

Evening came and still, they carried on until nightfall. They had gone as far as they could hope. Now it was time to rest for an early start the next morning. Saphira landed and they untied the elf from her back and lay her down. As usual, Lia saw to the food, Murtagh to the horses and Ella helped fill water skins as Eragon drew the precious substance from beneath the sand. They sat and ate. The meat was long gone. They chewed on the roots of some plants, not looking best pleased, but making do with what they could find. Lia was the first to break the silence.

"I will try and find some different plants tomorrow. A variation will provide more nutrients and keep us energised"

"Maybe I could help…" Ella began to suggest

"No" Lia cut her off before she could continue.

Ella opened her mouth to say more, but was dismissed with a shake of a head.

"You don't know what you are looking for and we don't have time. I don't want you straying out of sight from Eragon or any of us for that matter. You don't know how to take care of yourself out here"

"I would be fine"

"I'm not _advising_ you. I am _telling_ you. Stay put. Stay safe and do as you are told. That's how you can be help. By giving us one less thing to worry about"

Murtagh stopped chewing on his root and shot Lia a reproachful stare, which surprised even himself.

_Lia… _

_What?!_

_I know she is a pain, but could you not be a little…_

_I'm sorry? Were you going to say nicer? I'm frankly shocked that you haven't said a word to her!_

_You've had it covered…_

_I'm doing this for her own good!_

_If you say so_

_Don't give me that! She is young. She is inexperienced. If Eragon wants her to get to the Varden in one piece, she's going to have to do as she's told. She's not used to this way of life_

_Even so…_

_No. Not even so. If she doesn't follow orders, she will wind up dead and if none of you have the good sense to look after her welfare, then it falls to me_

_Lia…she's not…_

_Not what?_

Murtagh shoved the rest of the root in his mouth and chewed on it noisily. He couldn't say it. He knew that she knew what he was going to say. Whether she now gave it any thought was her decision. The fact that she knew meant that it had already crossed her mind. He would not tell her how to do her job, just as she would not dare to tell him how to do his. Glancing over at Ella, he saw that she was sat glaring at the ground. Eragon was stood beside Saphira, where they both stared out across the desert.

The sun went down and the moon rose into the sky. The humidity remained, but the heat was no more. With the night came the stronger winds and a sandstorm was arriving. It started off small, but ahead of them, clouds of sand swirled in the air, gathering in substance and speed. Eragon removed all their cloaks, which had been carried by the horses and threw them to their owners.

"There is a sandstorm coming… we should cover ourselves"

_If you all lie beside me, I can shield you from the force_

_Thank you_

"We should stay close to Saphira"

Sitting with their back's to Saphira's side, they threw their cloaks over their heads, as the first gust of sand encrusted wind bashed against her side. They kept still and breathed shallowly, for despite their heads being covered, they feared breathing in more than air. All discussion ceased. They would have to rest. Later they would have no time. These sandstorms were the norm and they had to adapt to these conditions. It was not decided who should keep watch or whether it was wise. Anyone who came after them in this weather had a death wish. With that in mind and considering what they had been through, Lia took it upon herself to meditate instead of sleep. This way, she could relax her body and mind and have a part of her that remained aware of the goings on around them.

_Sleep well Little One_

_Good night Saphira_

Murtagh prodded Lia's foot with his own

_Lia rest…_

_I will_

_I don't believe you…wake me if you see anything…good night_

_Murtagh…_

_Hmmm?_

_I am sorry for my behaviour today_

_We're all hot and bothered. I know you. I understand you. But I don't think I'm the one you need to apologise to_

Lia bit down on her tongue and did not reply. She knew that. Of course she did. It did not mean that she enjoyed being told in such a way. Murtagh regretted his words. He did not want to think that the situation could cause a rift between them. But of all her traits that he admired, it was her ability to treat others fairly that he regarded above the rest. She had given him a chance. She gave many people a chance – both deserving and undeserving. This girl deserved a chance. And in ways unfathomable, it distressed him to see her change in such a way. He knew why. Her breakdown had not left his thoughts. It had been a new experience. Having to comfort someone. It was a strange responsibility and left him feeling vulnerable in a way he wasn't sure that he liked. Still, he could not even begin to imagine how she had felt to have him see her in that state. So weak. But it had happened and he now felt more tied to her emotionally than he had believed possible. With their survival to worry about, he shut off his thoughts and let himself sleep. There was enough to worry about without adding to their growing pile of problems.

Saphira and Eragon slept soundly. Murtagh soon joined them. And although Ella and Lia were unaware of it, they were the only ones awake. Lia's eyes were closed, but she was aware of her surroundings. Ella lay on her side, but her eyes refused to close. She was beyond tired. Physically, it was pure bliss to merely be still. But her mind was too occupied. There was so much to think about. What did her future have in store for her? Where would she go after the Varden? What would she do? She didn't want to think about these things. It made more sense to worry about them once they reached their destination and she could learn more and make decisions accordingly.

Until that time, she would think about the one problem that she could act on and remedy if possible. Lia. Lia and her blatant, irrational dislike towards her. Whatever patience she had held and excuses she had made for her in the past had diminished. No matter what she said or tried to do was never good enough for her. She wanted to prove that given the chance, she could be useful. But she wasn't even granted that. What was the point of asking or trying when it would get her no where? She refused to just sit back and let everyone else do the hard work. She had a sense of pride and she wanted to help. And tonight, she was made to feel like a burden. She wasn't! She didn't have to be. She would show them. She had spent enough time examining the plants that they had been eating. Finding one wouldn't be so hard. She would do it the next day. No. They wouldn't let her. But when? How about now? Carefully, she lifted the cloak from over her head and squinted. The wind seemed to have stopped and the silvery light of the moon lit the ground. In the distance, but not too far away, she could see the shapes of some undergrowth. This was it. She could pick some and surprise them all at first light. Then they would see that she was not as useless as they thought!

As slowly as possible, she rose to her feet. She had long ago mastered the art of not being heard. The trademark of a good thief. Taking a few steps, she turned. They all remained asleep. Smiling grimly, she left them. She walked twenty paces and tripped over her own foot. She swore quietly. A gust of wind tousled her hair. It could have meant anything, but instinct told her that she should hurry.

Lia was in a place between sleep and wake. She did not dream. She did not seem to exist anywhere. Nothing was happening. Nothing surrounded her. She was nothing and in this nothingness, there was a tranquillity that could be found no where else. The she heard it. A movement. Her eyes opened and she lifted her cloak. The first thing she saw was the dark shape of Ella wondering off into the momentarily clear night. But the storm was already returning. A cloud passing across the night sky began to obscure the moon. Did she wake Murtagh? A shadow was falling across the ground. There were only seconds before Ella would be out of sight. Lia made her decision. Springing lightly to her feet, she grabbed her cloak and sprinted towards the girl.

Ella was near the vegetation, when three things happened. Darkness enveloped her. The crunch of running feet sounded behind her and a gust of wind hit her so hard; she was nearly knocked off her feet. Steadying herself, she stood perfectly still. Too frightened to move, she stayed stationary. Safe. A second blast of wind hit her and she bit back a cry, as a zillion grains of sand slapped her bare arms. Before she could cry out, she was tackled to the ground and given no warning, as thick fabric was thrown over her and the other person. She tried to move, but two arms wrapped around her arms and middle; restraining her.

"_So much for doing as you're told_", a voice hissed in her ear.

It was Lia. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment and rage, but she relaxed her arms and Lia released her grip, concentrating on holding the cloak in place. The wind was beating hard against them. On their own, without Saphira's protection, they felt the full force of the wind and it was terrifying. They could not have stood even if they had tried. They huddled together. The only way they could remain seated. With the howling of the wind so loud, conversation was nigh impossible. But in the frightening bleakness of the situation, Ella found her voice and shouted out.

"YOU MUST BE BLOODY HAPPY!"

"WHY?!"

"CAUGHT ME SNEAKING OFF! PROBABLY TOLD THEM ALL! WE'LL GET BACK AND THEY'LL JUST STARE AT ME LIKE I'M SOMETHING THEY STEPPED IN"

"I DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!"

"LIKE HELL YOU DIDN'T!"

"I DIDN'T HAVE A CHANCE. IT WAS A CHOICE BETWEEN LETTING THEM KNOW WHAT HAPPENED OR SAVING YOUR ARSE!"

"THEN WHY THE HELL DID YOU PICK ME?"

"BECAUSE I PROMISED I'D LOOK AFTER YOU"

"I DON'T NEED LOOKING AFTER!"

"OH! YES! I CAN SEE THAT! WONDERING OFF IN THE NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF A SANDSTORM? REALLY INTELLIGENT!"

"I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS COMING BACK!"

"SO YOU DIDN'T THINK I TOLD YOU TO STAY PUT FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR OWN SAFETY? WHAT WERE YOU DOING OUT HERE ANYWAY?"

"I WAS GOING TO FIND SOME FOOD"

"AND WHAT WERE YOU INTENDING ON BRINGING BACK MAY I ASK?"

"SOME OF THOSE PLANTS UP AHEAD"

"DESCRIBE THEM TO ME"

"I DON'T KNOW. THEY WERE TOO FAR AWAY. I WAS GOING TO LOOK FOR THE DRY ONES. STICKISH LOOKING WITH BLUE ROOTS"

"WONDERFUL! HAD YOUBROUGHT THOSE AND CONVINVED US TO EAT THEM, WE WOULD HAVE DIED WITHIN THE HOUR!"

"BUT THAT'S THE RUBBISH YOU MAKE US EAT?!"

"NO. MINE ARE BLUE AFTER I STRIP THE EXTERIOR LAYER. THE NATURALLY BLUE COLOURED ONES ARE LETHAL"

"WELL.. I DIDN'T KNOW THAT…"

"WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY I DON'T LET YOU GET THE FOOD"

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME?"

"I… I DON'T HATE YOU…"

"YES YOU DO! YOU CAN HARDLY TALK TO ME! YOU CAR BARELY LOOK AT ME! YOU DESPISE ME!"

"NO.. I DON'T"

"THEN WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

"YOU … YOU REMIND ME OF SOMEONE I ONCE KNEW…"

"IF YOU TREATED THEM THIS BADLY, I'LL BET THEY'RE BLOODY GLAD TO BE RID OF YOU"

"SHE'S DEAD. SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE I DIDN'T TAKE THE TIME TO LOOK AFTER HER…"

"YOU'RE NOT LOOKING AFTER ME LIA, YOU'RE SUFFOCATING ME. DO YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING AS STUPID AS THIS IF I'D BEEN ALLOWED TO HELP IN THE FIRST PLACE?!"

"I WAS ONLY TRYING TO PROTECT YOU…"

"WELL YOU DIDN'T!"

There was a silence that seemed louder than all the noise around them. Lia let the words beat the truth into her. It didn't matter what this girl looked like. She wasn't her sister. She couldn't protect her, just like she couldn't have saved her own sibling. The resemblance in looks was all that they shared. She was not her responsibility. She didn't have to smother her. A great weight lifted from her mind and shoulders. They were stuck in a sandstorm away from their colleagues. It was painful and dangerous. And it was the best moment of the journey so far. Finally, Lia could bury her past once more. Knowing that they were all dead and that there was no way of making it up to them, other than the course of action she was already taking. Able to look at Ella in a different way, she could see her for what she was. A girl who didn't fit in and who wanted an opportunity to do her part. It was a promising attitude; an attitude that deserved to be nurtured. This girl may not have been anything like her sister, but her thirst to prove herself reminded her of herself.

"IF WE MAKE IT OUT OF THIS. I WILL TEACH YOU"

"YOU'LL DO WHAT?!"

"I'LL TEACH YOU. TEACH YOU HOW TO IDENTIFY EDIBLE PLANTS"

"YOU'LL TECH ME? REALLY?"

"YES"

"… THANK YOU"

The wind died down. Lia swept the cloak off them. It was still pitch black, but the air was free of sand and they could move. Unable to see a thing, Ella grabbed hold of Lia's arm.

"How will we find our way back?"

"Murtagh"

"Murtagh?"

"I can sense where he is…"

And so, holding on to each other, Lia led them over the falling and rising mounds of sand. When they were close to where the others lay, Lia stopped and whispered to Ella.

"No body needs to know about tonight"

"You'd do that for me?"

"I treated you harshly and for that I am sorry. I'd like to start making it up to you, if you'll allow me?"

"I accept your apology and appreciate your offer"

"Then let us call it a night"

They approached the camp. Like a sign of their new beginning, the clouds that hid the moon passed and light shone down once more, to reveal their still snoozing friends. Ella resumed her position of the floor. Lia assumed her place at Murtagh's side. As her arm nudged against his, his sleeping head drooped and fell onto her shoulder. Aghast, she gently pushed his head upright, only for it to land on her shoulder once more. A snorting noise distracted her and she turned in time to see Ella throw her cloak over her head with a small giggle. Lia stared at Murtagh hopelessly and gave in. Slouching lower, his head rested more comfortably in the nook between her shoulder and neck. For the briefest of moments, she acknowledged that it _was_ a rather comfortable position. Then she shoved him hard and he hit the sand face first. With several confused mutterings of "who?" "what?" and "where"?, he finally glanced at Lia, who stared back at him with no trace of emotion.

_What the hell just happened?_ He shouted angrily in her mind

_Bad dream?_

He gave her a suspicious look and leaned back against Saphira's side, but shuffled a few inches away from his so-called partner. He slept. Lia grinned wickedly. Maybe this wouldn't be such a boring and aggravating journey after all?


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 

With peace between Lia and Ella, the atmosphere brightened. Some of the old chemistry of the group returned. Things seemed normal and as relaxed as they could be. But under the pressure of the heat, nerves began to fray once more. And whereas some now had a firmer hold on their tempers, another began to suffer.

Everything was a cause for annoyance. There was not one little thing that didn't irritate Eragon beyond comprehensible belief. Galloping astride Snowfire with Ella following close behind, she could not see the expression on his face. The look that showed nothing except his desperate urge to be anywhere but where they were.

He was slowly being driven insane. Things that he would never have given a second thought to nagged at his remaining shred of tolerance; things so stupid, small, normal and uncontrollable. He felt angry with himself for hating it all so. But it was building up and no matter how hard he tried to fight himself; it was a losing battle. All these things seemed like a personal attack: Life and everything in it. Every sight and sound that he was forced to endure. Each and every little thing was an insult. An insult to all that he had gone through. The way the sun baked him inside his clothes, making him wish that he could tear off his own skin. The unchanging scenery. The endless yellow sand and occasional plants that made every direction look exactly the same. If it weren't for the position of the sun and stars, they would never have known which direction was the right one to take. The sound of the horses hooves beating rhythmically against the sand. The stench of these large, sweating beasts. Even the lack of annoyance expressed by Ella was a cause for irritation. How could she not feel what he felt? She just rode Tornac with a look of concentration. On some occasions, she even smiled! She seemed to actually _enjoy_ examining the occasional dry plant life that they found and the test of identifying whether it was edible. He wished that he could be happy for her, but his thoughts and feelings were becoming bitterer by the day.

_Eragon… talk to me…_

Saphira's soothing tone calmed him. Why was she always calm when he felt the complete opposite? Would it be so bad if they both felt the same for once? If they got together and complained to their hearts' content! So instead of being so understanding and looking at both sides of the story, she could just agree with him completely and they could share this bitter resentment he felt towards this harsh place.

_Eragon… if you do not talk to me, you are going to explode!_

He didn't want to talk to her about it. She would make him see reason. He didn't want to. It felt like the only thing that was keeping him alive and providing him with the strength to keep moving was his anger. If she took that away from him, how would he go on? This wasn't like their trek from the forest to Gil' Ead. There was no more root. Every drop of effort that was spent here was theirs. He needed this feeling. Resisting the urge to pour his heart out to his best friend, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath. If he could hide it from the others. If he could lock it up inside, they wouldn't notice. They wouldn't question him and he could maintain this state of mind for as long as he needed. Was it a bad idea? Probably. But he was past caring. The way he saw it, whatever helped him get through this final stage of the journey had to be done.

_I am fine…_

_Eragon… please…_

_I said I am fine!_

He snapped back at her, before he could control himself.

_Whatever consumes your thoughts… if you do not talk about it, you will eventually break… and you may say things you don't mean to… people will get hurt…so for the last time… will you not speak with me? I can help you…_

She had to stop talking. He needed her to stop. There was only one way he could do it. Saphira was kind and gentle, but she was also proud and demanded respect. A change of tone was in order.

_You can't always help me Saphira. What I suffer, I apparently suffer alone. So why don't you just enjoy your flight and leave me be until our next stop!_

Saphira didn't even bother to dignify him with a reply. Affronted by his waspish words, she held her tongue. Allowing her disappointment and hurt to wash over him, she decided that whilst he was in this frame of mind, she would pay him no heed. In all honesty, it was a wonderful feeling to be up in the air, but it felt wrong to carry another. The elf was a light load to bear. However, the fact that's he was not her Rider weighed heavily on Saphira's conscience. She stared down at Eragon, riding below and shook her large head. All the signs were there. He was going to say or do something he would later regret. She just hoped that under the intensity of the overbearing sun, things would not get out of hand. The desert was a cruel place, she had decided. It changed people. Made friends become strangers. Hoping that they would emerge from this place not too unchanged, Saphira started ahead, looking for the first sign of the Beors. A sign that it would soon be over.

A clear sky above her head. The warmth of the sun. A wide open space. Being in the company of others. Ella found it hard to hold back a smile. It was meant to be hard labour. A cause for complaint. Eragon's face showed her how she should feel, but she couldn't. Yes, it was hard and uncomfortable and soul draining. But it was _freedom_. No longer was she cooped up in a cold, dark cell all alone. She was out of there and part of something. After years of only her father's company, she was a member of a group and they were beginning to accept her. By they, of course, she meant Murtagh, Lia and Saphira. Lia had now become her new mentor. She had taught her survival tactics and if they had enough energy at night, she was taught basic self-defence. Ella had always been a fast learner and although Lia was not one for handing out constant praise, she was pleased. And through earning the respect of Lia, the respect of Murtagh came hand in hand. Whether Saphira took a liking to her or not was a mystery. Eragon never suggested that she disapproved of her. She hadn't tried to eat her, so she accepted that as a positive fact. Eragon however had changed as of late. The past few days, conversation had died. Being polite and speaking only when necessary, she could feel a wall growing between himself and the others. When she had tried initiating recent contact, he would smile briefly, answer with the bare minimal response and then submerge himself back into whatever was going on inside his mind. It was a stressful time for him. She understood that as much as she could, from all that she had heard about him and his adventure. But she couldn't help wondering if Murtagh and Lia were running in silence or if they were conversing and joking between them selves merrily. Guiltily, she half wished the she had the stamina to run beside them and escape the uncomfortable silence that she was forced to ride beside. Passing a patch of plantation, Ella pulled on the reigns and steered Tornac around. Shouting over her shoulder, she informed Eragon of her intention.

" I'M STOPPING TO PICK SOME PLANTS! DON'T WAIT FOR ME! I'LL CATCH UP!"

He had never slowed down in the first place. Assuming that he was simply used to her occasional stopping, she headed towards the plants.

Hearing the sound of hooves trailing away from him, Eragon didn't turn. His heels touched Snowfire's sides harder, urging him to gallop all the more faster. He was alone and he was going to allow himself the privilege of a rare occurrence. When he was sure that Ella was out of earshot, he let out a long string of curse words. Saphira was right. He needed to vent his feelings and at that moment, swearing like a drunk seemed like a perfect method. It helped that he couldn't hear the words he was saying. The background noise drowned them out. But he could feel his lips moving as he spoke and somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see Garrow frowning at him. Neither Eragon nor Roran had ever taken to using foul language frequently. Garrow wouldn't stand for it. One disappointed look from him was enough to make one never do it again. Distracted, he thought of Murtagh and Lia in comparison. They swore regularly and so rudely and crudely, he sometimes felt inclined to blush. Whether it was friendly banter or irritated abuse, they showed no shame or remorse. He wondered what their upbringings were like. Once again, it was brought to his attention how little he knew of them. Feeling a little better after his secret outburst, he relaxed a little. Only to have all the things that had bothered him before swamp him all over again.

Lia was in a positive frame of mind. They had all now developed a routine that helped them make excellent progress. They had adapted to their situation. Little bothered her anymore. Except for…

_Two thousand and three… two thousand and four… two thousand and five…_

Murtagh 

_Two thousand and six… two thousand and seven… two thousand and eight…_

Murtagh! 

_Two thousand and nine… two thousand and ten… two thousand and eleven…_

_Murtagh… dear partner…_

_Two thousand and twelve… two thousand and thirteen…_

_As bound to you as I am…_

_Two thousand and fourteen… two thousand and fifteen…_

_If you utter another number…_

_Two thousand and sixteen… two thousand and seventeen…_

_I will make buzzard food out of you!_

_Two thousand and eighteen… two thousand and nineteen…_

Threats having no affect on him, she switched to a more childish tactic. One that never grew old through the passing of the years. He continued to count.

_Two thousand and twenty_

_Two thousand and fifty six_

_Two thousand and twenty five_

_Two thousand and forty three_

_Two thousand and… damn you woman! You made me lose count!_

_Ha!_

_Why would you do that?_

_After you reached one thousand, it was becoming annoying!_

_For the love of all that is good in this world, I was trying to entertain myself!_

_By counting…_

_There isn't much else to do out here_

_What were you counting?!_

_Steps taken since our last stop_

_Are you that bored?_

_Yes!_

_You do realise that this isn't meant to be fun?_

_It doesn't hurt to try_

Lia's thoughts turned to the only thing that kept her mind occupied during recent times. A thought had barely formed, when Murtagh interrupted it.

_Twenty nine_

_What?_

_That's the twenty ninth time you have thought about Ella today_

_That is ridiculous! I…. Really?_

_Depressingly, yes_

_You kept count of my thoughts as well as your steps?!_

_I'm not just a pretty face you know_

_Twenty nine times?!_

_You may as well stop thinking about her. You can't teach her anything else out here _

_Look. You occupy yourself counting. I occupy myself thinking of something more useful. Couldn't you at least count quietly?_

_Quietly?! I'm counting in my head! I can't help it if you can still hear me!_

_Fine!_

_Fine!…thirty times!_

_Oh stop it! This is… wait…_

_What's wrong?_

_I understand what's happening here…_

_Really? I thought it was rather obvious. We're running through the desert, bored out of our minds_

_You're jealous!_

_What?!?!_

_Of Ella…you're jealous_

_No I'm not_

_Yes you are_

_Don't flatter yourself!_

_Oh Murtagh…are you feeling neglected? Would you like a hug?_

_No. But clearly you'd like my first in your face_

It appalled him that on a secret level, she was right. He would never admit it, but he missed their brawls and her undivided attention. And it seemed that every time they were all together, she would spend it with Ella. That left him in the company of a recently dark and moody Eragon and a dragon who he couldn't speak to even if he wanted to. Sometimes he thought that he could if he tried. But his guard was always up. The result of years of practice. The only person to ever break that threshold was Lia. No other soul would breach his defences. Or so he hoped. All that his time with Eragon had taught him was that anything was possible. Determined to shine the light away from himself, he resorted to a recent thread of conversation. One that he knew he shouldn't take a great deal of pleasure in, but he did it anyway.

_So… did you have any interesting dreams last night?_

_No. I slept. I woke._

_Nineteen times_

_What are you talking about now?_

_That's how many times you won't talk about that perverse dream of yours_

Unwillingly, Lia put on a small burst of speed to hide her reddened cheeks. Once she realised that he face was already a stunning shade of crimson from the run and the burning sun, she quickly slowed. Murtagh never tried to catch up with her. When she fell back in line with his pace, she could sense his devious enjoyment. He knew. She knew he knew. He knew she knew that he knew. She would confirm nothing.

_I'm not like you Murtagh. I do not have such dreams_

_What a steaming pile of dung!_

_Think what you must. It won't make it true._

_So who was the handsome devil?_

_Murtagh. Even if I did have a dreamlike that. Do you honestly think I would divulge the details to you?_

_I would be offended if you didn't_

_In your dreams_

_No. Don't change the subject. It's your dreams we are discussing. And I want to know with whom you were misbehaving with_

_What about your dreams?! Who, where and how were you romping around?!_

_Romping? Curious. I never said anything about romping. But if you must pry: The girl from Gil' Ead, in that alleyway and up against a…_

_Alright! Enough!_

_Well, you did ask_

_I was trying to make you uncomfortable. Apparently I failed._

_There's only one reason I can think of that you won't tell me_

_And what might that be?_

_It was me_

_You? Murtagh… not if you were the last man standing_

_It's perfectly normal. We spend so much time together; it would be strange if you didn't dream of me_

Rational as his words may have been and as close as Lia was to simply admitting it to make the conversation end, she was hit by an idea. Murtagh sensed that the tables were about to turn.

_Murtagh… have you been dreaming of me?_

_I beg your pardon?_

_Well if it's so normal, you must have been dreaming of me. And up until now, I was the only female presence available for some time. So I am guessing that these dreams weren't entirely… innocent?_

_I have never dreamed of you_

His reply was instant, firm and left no room for argument. It was just what she wanted to hear.

_Well then. I guess that the fact that I have never dreamed of you isn't all that peculiar after all?_

_I guess not_

_Consider this the end of the conversation_

_Very well_

_Good_

The tense discussion reaching an end, they relaxed. As a few minutes passed by, they realised that they were sharing a similar need and rather uncomfortable problem. Trying to ignore it, they concentrated on their movements and breathing technique. It was no good. The twinge in their bladders that had started as a mild, occasional irritation was now a throbbing discomfort. Murtagh came to a grinding halt. Lia stopped a few steps ahead.

"I can't hold" Murtagh stated

"Just a _little_ bit further!" Lia pleaded

"We have to stop"

"I don't need to…" 

Before she could finish what she was about to say, he sent her the full force of his desperation. Lia clenched her knees together and doubles over with a small cry.

"_You bastard_!" she whimpered

"Now we _both_ have to go"

They glanced around. No form of cover was in sight. Lia, still bent over, shuffled around delicately and spoke through gritted teeth.

"And _how_ do we go about doing this?!"

"I don't know about you, but I was thinking the old fashioned way" 

"Dare I ask?"

Shooting her a cocky grin, he turned his back on her and began to fumble with his belt. Embarrassed, Lia turned her back to him and wished that there were somewhere a little more private. The sound of his urinating made her urge every more desperate. Speaking over his shoulder, he addressed her daringly.

"What are you waiting for?"

Reaching for her own belt, she paused.

"If you turn around before I say so, I _will_ make you sorry"

"What do you take me for?!" 

"_Stop_ talking"

"Why?"

"Because I can't… I can't _go_ if someone is talking!"

"Oh _Lia…. Lia… Lia… Lia…_"

It was ridiculous. Nearly a whole minute was spent with the both of them, backs turned, emptying their bladders as if there was no end to their urine supply. An entertaining thought hit Murtagh and he stared to giggle. The motion caused his flow to stop and start; a sound comical enough to cause Lia to laugh until she almost cried. Hoisting up her trousers, she remained with her back turned. Hearing him finally finish, she smirked.

"This is getting rather out of hand, isn't it?"

"Well, we're bound by promises, thought…"

"…bladders?"

"Evidently so"

"Does it ever bother you how… normal it all seems?"

"All the time"

"I thought the connections and changes sought to aid our pact. To help us"

"I don't really need help in this particular task"

"I wasn't offering"

"But if you must, you can shake…"

"Let me tie a knot in it. Help your bladder control?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

"It's small enough. I think you can handle it by yourself"

"I'll have you know many women have commented on…"

"I'm _sure_ they have"

"_They have_!"

"Just _keep_ telling yourself that"

"Come around here and I'll _prove_ it!"

"Do you have a spyglass on you?"

On a wave of laughter, she ran. Still mildly annoyed, he stayed a few paces behind.

_Nine times_, Lia's voice spoke sweetly in his mind

Nine times what? 

_Nine times, despite my threat, you actually thought about turning around and sneaking a peek_

He thought about arguing, but it was no good. It was only true.

_You give me too much credit. After all, I am just a man. We're all alone out here and you are a woman_

_What about Ella? What exactly is she?_

_Inexperienced_

_You really are a man aren't you?!_

_What about you?_

_What about me?_

_Me or Eragon. Who would you pick?_

_I am not playing this game!_

_It's not a game. It's a simple question_

_Neither of you_

_That answer is not valid_

_Well it's a good job I'm not playing then, isn't it?_

_Pick one!_

_No_

_I knew you'd pick me_

_Murtagh… count your bloody steps!_

Racing up behind her, he grabbed hold of her rear, before putting on a fresh burst of speed as she gave chase like a woman possessed. Threat after disturbing threat was shouted after him, whilst he laughed. In such dire circumstances, one had to make one's own entertainment. And deep down, they both enjoyed the distraction from the inside of their heads.

The long morning came and went. Afternoon arrived and with it, the first break of the day. This was the longest they had been without a stop. Whether because their endurance had increased or because both sets waited for the other to make the suggestion, neither would know, for it was Saphira who ordered the rest. Eragon and Ella stopped and waited for Murtagh and Lia to reach them. Once they were together, Saphira landed. Still aggravated by Eragon's attitude and unwillingness to discuss whatever was bothering him, she spoke to Lia.

_I think it would benefit the elf and myself if we were separated for a short while. I wish to fly alone and an unmoving surface will prove much more comfortable for her_

_Whatever you feel is best_,

Lia moved towards her and began to fumble with the straps holding the elf in place. Seeing what was happening, Eragon was about to rise and help when it registered that Saphira hadn't spoken to him. Jealous and angry, he stayed put. Lia, who was struggling, turned to Eragon, who avoided her eyes. Murtagh sensed her need for help and went to her aid. After the elf was laid down gently, they sat back down opposite the unsmiling Eragon and the uncomfortable looking Ella. Saphira beat her wings and rose into the air. She left without a word to either Eragon or Lia. Both assumed that she had said farewell to the other. Eragon drew the water. They each filled their water skins and drank their fill. When they had freshened up, Lia reached into her pocket and pulled out their usual meal. Handing them out, Murtagh took his without comment, Eragon pulled a face, but when it was Ella's turn, her face split into a broad smile. She reached into her own pocket; her eyes filled with excitement.

"I've done some picking of my own. I have a rare treat. Something I think that will change everything"

Lia's eyes widened hopefully. Murtagh scurried over eagerly. Even Eragon couldn't resist leaning over curiously. Ella felt a little cruel for making the joke, but she couldn't wait to see the look on their faces. Opening her palm she was holding a handful of exactly the same roots that they had been eating every day. Lia held back a laugh and reached for one.

"What a _rare_ find" she said, playing along.

Murtagh examined the root for half a minute 

"My life will never be the same again"

At his words, Lia and Ella cracked up with laughter, whilst Murtagh chewed on the root, making smacking noises with his lips in between comments such as "This tastes divine" and " I wish I could eat this _all the time_". Murtagh had joined in by now and couldn't eat for laughing so hard. But whilst they laughed amongst themselves, something inside Eragon snapped. He wanted them to stop. The sound of their joy grated against his ears. He ground his teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut. _Stop it_, he thought. _Stop_. _Stop_. He couldn't take it anymore. Days worth of accumulated rage erupted, starting with the shouting of those two words.

"STOP IT!"

The laughter ceased. All eyes were on him. He kept his head down. He couldn't look at them. He couldn't bear to look at any of them at that moment. It was like they resided on a different plane of existence. How could they find time to laugh? How could they smile at a time like this?

Murtagh glanced at Lia, shrugged and gestured his head toward Eragon meaningfully. One look at Ella's shaking head told Lia that her communication skills were needed. Noticing the pulsing vein in his temple, flushed cheeks and the defeated aura about him, she guessed what it was. The heat. The desert. This place was one big test. She had suspected someone would crack at some point. It was expected. But she had never thought for a second that it would be him. He had Saphira. They would keep each other sane in this place, just as Murtagh and Lia had with each other. If she had guessed anyone to suffer, it was Ella. And yet, Ella seemed to be the only one who was flourishing in this unlikely environment. She was pleased for her. She feared for Eragon. Something was terribly wrong if he had been allowed to reach this stage of behaviour. She put two and two together. It was he. He was being his usual self. He was holding it all in. Trying to play the hero. And in doing so, pushing away the one being who could help him and slowly driving himself over the edge. She spoke to him gently and prepared herself for a less than polite response.

"Rider…What ails you?"

"It's not funny! None of this is entertaining in the least!"

"We know. We are only making the best out of a bad situation"

"Well don't! There is no best to be made out of anything!"

"I understand what you are going through Rider and I must ask you to focus at least on your goal"

"Don't patronise me! Do you think me a fool?"

"No"

"Then do not speak to me like one!"

Lia's lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. Murtagh raised a displeased brow at the Rider's words and the offence with which Lia received them. Glaring from one to the other, Eragon stood and irritably twisted his hands through his hair.

"Both of you! You always have to be right! Always have to be superior! Always have to look down on me and speak to me as if I was some child! I am not!"

"And yelling like one is working _wonderfully_ in your defence Rider", Murtagh muttered loudly enough to be heard by all. Rounding on him, Eragon laughed bitterly, before pointing a finger, which Murtagh did not care for much in the least.

"You can talk! I may act like a child, but at least I do not follow my female companions like a helpless, needy dog!"

Hearing enough, Murtagh was about to jump to him feet, when Lia's fingers dug into his shoulder, pushing him back down. He shook her off, but did not move. Casting his eyes to the ground, he breathed heavily, fighting the sudden need to rush at the future saviour and beat him to the ground. _Curse this heat_, he thought. It was making an already bad situation a thousand times worse. But was that really what Eragon thought? Was that how he was perceived? He refused to believe it. Choosing silence, he held his tongue. He felt Lia's approval towards his reaction. At first it soothed his anger, only to flare it up again, as he wondered why her approval could possibly mean so much to him! Onslaught unfinished and convinced that he had caused enough humiliation to Murtagh, Eragon aimed his next attack at Lia.

"And you Lia! She who can apparently do no wrong! Where the hell are we?!"

"Speak plainly Eragon"

"We've been in this place for over two weeks! Everything looks the same!"

"The desert is a big place"

"We should have seen something by now! Anything! Some sign!?"

"What are you implying?"

"That maybe the great Lia doesn't know where we are going!"

"I _know _where we are going"

"Then why can't we see mountains?! Why does it look like we haven't progressed even a mile since we set foot in this place?!"

"It was never meant to be a short journey"

"You know what _I_ think? _I_ think _you_ got us _lost_!"

"We are _not_ lost"

"How do you _know_ that?!" 

"I _know_"

"But _how_ do you know for sure? Have you ever made this journey _before_?!"

"No. _But_…"

"And _where_ did you obtain the directions so _casually_?!"

"They were _not_ obtained casually. They were bestowed upon me by a reliable source"

"Did your reliable source make this journey?!"

"I don't know. I didn't think to ask"

"You just _trusted_ him?!"

"Yes I did. As you have trusted me though our journey together so far and I have never led you astray"

"Until _now_, when you've got us all lost and this is it. We're all going to die out here"

"We are _not_ going to die out here!"

"Yes we _are_! If we don't _kill_ each other first, we'll _starve_ to death or be _burnt_ to a crisp!"

The heat and sudden attack of nervousness had sweat trickling down Lia's face. Had it got hotter whilst there were arguing? Or was it a combination of Murtagh's discomfort and her own? Keeping calm was a desperate struggle. She had never questioned the reliability of the information she had carried with her. Not until now. She was positive that they were heading in the right direction. In her gut, she knew that they were getting closer. But Eragon was right. By now, they should have seen some sign of the Beors. They were meant to be huge. Colossal. If they were half way across the desert by now, they should have been able to catch a glimpse of them. A shadow. Something. There was nothing. Gulping hard, she faced the possibility that there was a chance he was right. It was slim and almost impossible, but the fact that the possibility was even there was enough to scare her. Overwhelmed with a sense of despair, she couldn't open her mouth to speak. How could she, when she may well be responsible for their deaths? Feeling what she was feeling, Murtagh forgot why he was angry. Taken over by the impulsive need to defend the one to which he was bonded, he rose his eyes to meet Eragon's. The look he gave him; unforgiving and the tone in which he spoke, deadly.

"Take that back Rider"

"Why should I?"

"Because you know that we damn well deserve better treatment that this after all we have done for you"

"Don't say you did any if it for me! You both did it for yourselves! What were you before you joined me Murtagh? Some convict on the run? You helped me to save yourself!"

"Oh yes! _Now_ I remember! _That's _why I saved you! Because travelling with Alagaesia's most wanted is the _perfect_ way to avoid detection! It's nice to know that your deduction skills remain unaffected by the _heat_!"

"Your life was _meaningless_ until you rode with me! Your journey with me has nothing to do with saving the Empire anymore. It's about enjoying yourself by the constant thrill of danger!"

"A _fine_ analogy Rider! _Brilliant_! Are you listening to this Lia?" he asked, nudging her in the side.

"This is going too far…," Lia said quietly

"Enlighten me Eragon. What then was Lia's reason for joining? I'm sure she is simply _dying_ to hear this revelation unveiled"

"_She_ knows! You wouldn't have a clue!"

"And _why_ would that be?" Murtagh asked, knowing that he knew things that the Rider did not.

"Haven't you ever wondered how and why the two of you went from two people who fought at every opportunity to being firm friends?"

"I know _how _and _why_ Rider and I certainly do not need _you_ to inform me"

"It's because that's what she does. She speaks with honeyed words to get what she wants. She won you over, just like she tried to win over Saphira"

Lia's head jerked up, as if she had been struck. Eragon's accusing stare pierced her heart and awoke a rage in her that she never thought possible. Rising to her feet, Murtagh stood by her side and glared. Lia's voice shook with every word that she spoke.

"_How…dare…you…say…such…things_!"

"Well it didn't work did it?! You spoke with her secretly. You rode her and still she chose me over you. She is my dragon. I'm the Rider. She chose me! You can't have her!"

Completely and utterly flabbergasted Lia could only stare at him with her mouth slightly agape. How could he think that? She had never for a second wanted Saphira for herself! She had done nothing but help him and speak with her only when necessary. She wanted to argue. To make him know that she _had_ never and _would_ never even _attempt_ to come between them. Words were lost. How could she reason with him whilst he was in this state?

Ella felt isolated and unnoticed as she sat watching the three of them. Three complete strangers. What had happened to them? Where was the Eragon who valued and admired his comrades? Where were the Murtagh and Lia who remained calm and collected under pressure? Who were these screaming and whining children. It wasn't her place to interfere, but she saw no other option. Standing up to join them, she folded her arms.

"And what about me? Do you have anything you wish to say to me?"

Eragon's expression softened as he beheld her challenging stare. How could be possibly be angry with her?

"I have no quarrel with you Ella…please…sit back down"

She sat back down. A part of her had half hoped that he would say something to her. Anything that would draw the attention away from the two people who may resort to violence in this unpredictable time. And here she was, sitting back down like an obedient little girl.

Murtagh turned his eyes away from the person who he had sought to protect and aid. His feelings were past aggressive and he was convinced that he was about to do something he may regret, if only just a little. As his glare swept past Eragon, he saw something in the distance that made him grab Lia's arm suddenly. Lia nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped her head around to scold him; saw the expression he wore and followed his stare. All the emotions that they had felt previously melted away, as they saw a group of four people on horseback approaching in the distance. Fury was replaced by caution. They forgot about the heat. They put aside all thoughts of this conversation. This new, immediate potential threat brought back what mattered the most. Their duty to their Rider. It was why they were here. It was why they had stuck with him this far. As unlikely a candidate as there ever could be; Saphira believed in him enough to hatch for him. They believed he was the one worth fighting for. The moment was over. They were themselves once more. Murtagh drew his sword. Lia drew both of hers.

Eragon studied their faces and saw the change. His words had passed over their heads. Whatever pain he had inflicted to ease his own suffering had passed. This did nothing for his mood. Did his thoughts and feelings count for so little that they were taken so lightly? Why did they not have the decency to look ashamed? To apologise? To beg forgiveness? He opened his mouth. Murtagh stopped him with a raise of his hand.

"We have company…"

_This will put a stop to his mad ranting_, Murtagh privately added to Lia.

One glimpse at the look on Eragon's face told Lia otherwise. She sighed. Murtagh winced. They exchanged a look from the corners of their eyes. Lia's grip on the hilt of her sword tightened.

_This is going to be bad_

_Maybe he'll surprise us… Maybe he won't do or say anything stupid?_

_I wouldn't count on it…_

Four people were headed towards them. Overjoyed, Eragon gazed at them with the hope of a man close to death about to be saved. He leapt in the air and waved his arms.

"OVER HERE!" he yelled enthusiastically.

Murtagh blinked twice before turning to Lia, his inner voice dripping with sarcasm

…_because there are so many other people out here…_

_It's the heat_

_Oh please. We can't blame it all on the heat_

_You're right, The heat only enhances his stupidity_

Stepping to either side of him protectively, Eragon wondered what they were doing.

"Put your weapons away. They're here!" he said, as if that explained everything.

"Friends of yours? Well why didn't you _say_ so" Murtagh replied dryly.

"Eragon. We don't know who they are" Lia said, hoping that her emphasis on the word "_don't_" would clear his clouded mind.

"Of course we do! It's them!"

"Them?"

"Members of the Varden!"

"We can't take any risks. We have to be cautious"

"Who else is going to be out this far in the desert?! Obviously they know we are on our way and they arranged for some people to meet us!"

"That is a _lot_ of guess work"

"It's them. I know it!"

Certain that he was correct, he took a step forward, only to feel Murtagh's hand land firmly on his shoulder.

"Where are you going Rider?"

"To meet them. They will want to speak with me"

"I do not think that is such a wise idea"

"I didn't ask for your opinion!"

Pushing away the protesting hand, Eragon started to walk. Frowning after him, Murtagh sheathed his blade and folded his arms. Lia rushed into the Rider's path and blocked the way. There was no time for this ignorance.

"We should all stay here. Together. It's safer this way"

"Move out of the way Lia"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said move!"

"I heard what you said Rider. I just didn't believe you would dream of repeating it"

"You dare to stand in my way?"

"I can't let you walk to your death. Regardless of all you have said and whatever you may feel, I still swore to help you. We _both_ swore…"

Murtagh dragged himself to stand by her side in front of Eragon. He could feel his patience waning once more, but drew strength from Lia's focused determination.

"You are not yourself. Listen to us. We have never let you down before"

They were speaking words that made sense. Words that were true. He didn't hear them. He only saw that they were standing in between him and the one sure way of escaping this place. They did not see what he saw. They were stubborn. They would not let him pass. They needed to get out of his way. He was the Rider. In the end, they would have to do his bidding.

"Stay here with the elf. Both of you. I don't need you. Not for this. Ella. Come with me"

Ella looked from the two warriors, who were blatantly in the right and the boy who had insisted on saving her in the first place. It was madness. She wanted to stay by Eragon's side, but it was folly. In what she hoped was a controlled, kind and convincing voice, she tried to sway his decision. She walked to his side and lay a gentle hand on his arm.

"Eragon. They are not that far away. Maybe it's best if we do wait here. Just in case"

"You take their word over mine?" he asked angrily

"It's not that. It's just…" she answered quickly. Catching Lia's eyes, she saw a nod. It was no use arguing with him. She would have to go.

"I'll go with you"

"Good. Now. If you two would be so kind?"

They did not budge. He never thought the day would come where he would say what he was about to say. But he did.

"I am the Rider… the hope for the future…"

"And sometimes, frankly, that terrifies me" Murtagh spoke, before he could stop himself. Somewhat to his relief, Lia made no attempt to argue. Eragon ran his eyes over the both of them. Who did they think they were? They were _nothing_. _He_ was the important one. _He_ was the chosen one.

"The both of you would stand in the way of my destiny?… you would try and stop me?"

"This isn't your destiny Eragon. This is suicide. We're trying to stop you doing this so you can _fulfil_ your destiny" Lia pleaded

"_I_ am the Rider and I say _move_ and if you do _not_… I _swear_ that I will move you _myself_"

"Are we being _threatened_?" Murtagh asked Lia, who looked a cross between mildly entertained and baffled beyond belief.

"I believe we _are_…" Lia replied curiously

"Do you want to see how far he's willing to go?"

"I must admit, I am rather _tempted_ to"

"So Rider…we're not moving… what _exactly_ do you intend to do about it?"

Murtagh stared deep into Eragon's eyes. They'd called his bluff. What would be his response? Nothing. He was too full of good. Too filled with morals. He was all talk. Lia was prepared for anything. Eragon was out of control and worse, out of his mind. He saw the doubt etched on their faces. They inability to believe that he could take any offensive action. In his fury, he felt the magic rush through him as his will to knock them off their _oh-so-confident_ feet took over. He though it. He wished it. He wanted it. It happened.

The condescending smile that Murtagh had worn was wiped from his face as his legs were thrown upwards and he landed flat on his back. Lia landed a little more gracefully on her side. His action had the desired effect. They didn't try to get up. They only gawked at him and then at each other. Embracing the opportunity, he grabbed Ella's hand and walked through the gap that lay between them.

"Stay here. We will return and in case you were wondering, that was an _order_"

Ella, too shocked to speak, let Eragon lead her away. She cast Murtagh and Lia a last fearful glance, before following the Rider to what she was certain would be their doom. Lying still, Murtagh let his head roll to the side where he could see Lia properly.

"Did that just happen?"

"Does your arse hurt?" Lia asked, whilst wondering if she had broken her arm

"No. But my back feels like someone set fire to it"

"Then it happened"

"Are you going to be running after him any time soon?"

"I don't know. Would that be a violation of our _orders_?"

"I think it might… _Orders!_… you'd think he was practising to be _King_?!"

"Well, when he overthrows Galbatorix, there _will_ be a vacancy and he will no doubt be the people's first choice"

As carefully as possibly, Murtagh eased himself into a sitting position. Lia followed suit, moving her arm to check for breaks. Murtagh watched her, torn between whether he should admire her of think her a complete idiot.

"After all that just happened, you _still _believe he is the one? You would still give him the benefit of doubt?"

Lia moved her elbow and bit down on her tongue. Her arm wasn't broken, she was sure of that, but the pain was intense.

"Alright… so he played a little roughly with us? If I recall, we tried to _kill_ each other? If we can get past _that_, we can get past _this_"

Looking over their shoulders, they watched Eragon and Ella grow closer and closer to the newcomers. Murtagh gave the elf an unwelcoming look and rose to his feet, rubbing his aching back.

"Fine. We move past his physical and verbal attacks. But where to? We can't go after him"

"Are you _scared_?" Lia asked with little humour

"_Hardly_" Murtagh scoffed

"Then we _wait_"

"Ah _hope_! We all seem to reply on it a little too much"

"At the moment, it's all we have"

"What of Saphira?"

"I do not know.. If she sensed his temper, she will either come running or steer clear. Either way, I am not sure it is wise. If she appears by him, these people will realise who he is. Depending on how much they know they may try to capture or kill him. Without her, I think we have a better chance"

"So you will not tell her?… She won't like that"

"She'll have to. It's the only way we can keep both her and the Rider alive"

They could see the horsemen clearly now. They were laughing. Eragon started to run. Was it his imagination or was he dragging Ella along? At first he thought she was just a slow runner, but after a few tugs of resistance and the final digging in of her heels, he stopped.

With each step they took, Ella felt a cold sensation grow in the pit of her stomach. As the four men became more visible, she knew who they were. They definitely were _not_ members of the Varden. They had to return to the others. The grip on her hand was so tight; she couldn't squirm free even if she tried. She stopped moving. He got the message and looked at her as if he had no understanding as to why she would slow their progress, let alone stop it.

"We need to go back. _Now_"

"We're almost there. They're not that far"

"Eragon, these men aren't who you think they are. They're _Slavers_!"

"_Slavers_!? What would Slavers be doing all the way out here?!"

"I don't _know_! But that's what they _are_!"

"They _can't_ be! They _must_ be members of the Varden!"

"_Why_?"

"_Because_…"

"Don't you think that they would stay hidden during this time?! Don't you think that if you are the chosen one they would expect _you_ to find _them_?!"

"_I_…"

The galloping of the horses' hooves was so near, he dreaded the thought of facing the men. What Ella had said. It made sense. He didn't want to believe it, but he suddenly knew. He knew he had made a grave mistake. He knew he had just dragged Ella along with him to face the consequences of his actions. He knew he had just harmed the two people who had done nothing but try to protect him all along. He let go of Ella's hand, letting his own drop to his side. He spoke in a small voice.

"_Run_…"

"_What_?!"

"_Run back_…"

"To what avail?! They are on horseback Eragon! They'll catch up to me before I get anywhere _near_ the others"

"I am _so sorry_…"

"Pull yourself together! Now isn't the time for heartfelt apologies!" 

"What should we do?"

"We have to stay _calm_. We have to lead them to the others"

"They'll know what to do"

"_Don't_ tell them who you are! _Don't_ say or do anything that may get us killed and if we _do_ get out of this, you _may _want to apologise to your _friends_"

"…That's if they will ever forgive me"

"You can't think about that now"

"You're right…Why is everyone else always right?"!

"You can't have good looks _and_ brains Rider" she said with a shaky laugh.

Briefly registering the compliment, he held out his hand. She took it. Together, they faced the oncoming men. He had thought since his time in the cells that he would never again face a danger without Saphira by his side. He was wrong. Once again, it was him and Ella. And what would happen once they reached Murtagh and Lia? He wouldn't think about that now. He didn't need to. It'd happen soon enough. Up close, Eragon now saw that their smiles were in fact greedy leers. Their laughs were not of joy, but out of triumph. They had been handed business on a plate. Standing in front of Ella, he glared as the four men surrounded them. Despite her previous words, Ella felt cold terror rise within her. Whispering frantically in Eragon's ear, she made her request without hesitation.

"_Use magic against them! Kill them_!"

In that moment, he knew that he could not. They deserved it. There was no doubt about it. Dangerous and evil people who kidnapped people and sold them as slaves. It made no difference. The rage and all that he had felt before was gone. It had been the source of his power and without it, he could not bring himself to kill them. Had they attacked him already, then maybe he could have justified it. But whilst they had not harmed anyone, he would kill no one. Seeing his reaction to her worlds, any hope she had had of him throwing them off their horses to their deaths was ripped away from her. It appeared as though the Rider's power only manifested itself when it wasn't needed. She stared up into the faces of the men. There was no capability of kindness or compassion in those eyes, only brutality. The two that flanked them on either side were big in width and height. The two men that stood before them were bigger still, although one was slightly larger than the other and had a crazed look about him. The leader. He spat down at the ground, gave Ella a perverse looks and Eragon an approving nod.

"Well lads… it's not every day fine specimens such as these appear out of thin air"

The man besides Ella glanced around them. His grin broadening as he caught sight of two figures nearby.

"Look at that… two more!"

"Friends of yours?" the leader asked

Eragon didn't reply. He only scowled.

"It makes no difference. We'll take them all the same But let's go quietly, shall we?"

Ella groaned as the man beside her pulled out a sword and pointed it at her.

"Any thinking of warning them lad and she gets it"

"Start moving…" the leader said, whilst drawing his own sword. The others drew theirs. Their captives had no choice. They all turned and made their way towards their next set of prizes.

Murtagh was pacing impatiently. Lia was sat beside the elf. He stopped pacing.

"They're coming back"

"Good… I hate waiting"

"They don't seem to be in a great hurry You think maybe the Rider was right?"

Lia gave him a look, which made him raise both his hands in a gesture of pardon. Approaching the horses, she took her cloak and placed it over the unconscious elf.

"The ultimate disguise" Murtagh commented sarcastically

"Can you think of anything better?" Lia barked back

"There's always the usual stand by course of action?"

"Being?"

"Kill the lot of them?"

Lips twisting into a smile, Lia left the cloak over the elf, but held her swords at the ready.

"I like you Murtagh. Have I ever told you that?"

"Actually… no"

They paused in their thoughts, laughed and waited for the moment when they would wet their blades with blood. As the Slavers and their latest catches almost reached their destination, they noticed that these two specimens were armed. The leader slapped the flat of his blade against Eragon's shoulder.

"You're friends aren't stupid. But we'll take them all the same. Call out to them. Tell them to drop their weapons or the two of you die"

"I'm not particularly sure that at this moment in time they will care…"

"For the both of your sakes, they'd better"

He wasn't the only one who had this concern. Ella kept her doubts to herself. Clearing his throat, Eragon hoped that Murtagh and Lia were more forgiving than he felt that he deserved.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS OR THEY WILL KILL US!"

He heard the whine that entered his voice on the last two words that were yelled and he could imagine the looks on their faces. The undisguised disgust. They were too far away to have their features discerned, but they were near enough to see that their weapons still remained in their hands.

Eragon's voice reached their ears loud and clear. They knew that had no other choice and yet, letting go of their only means of defence was more than difficult.

"What the hell do we do now?" Murtagh growled

"Drop our weapons…"

"I don't like it…"

"If we don't, they kill them and all hope is lost"

"Without our weapons, how can we hope to defend them?"

"Let's deal with one thing at a time…"

Lia let her swords fall from her hands. Murtagh grumbled as his own sword slipped from his fingers. They waited. In a matter of minutes, they stood face to face with a scared Ella, a depressed Eragon and four men who they recognised at once for what they were.

_He's always making the wrong friends_

_I just hope they're as stupid as they look_

The men dismounted. The leader and the man beside him stopped before Murtagh and Lia. They kicked their weapons out of reach. Their proud owners flinched at the sound of the cruel impact. With pursed lips, they said nothing.. aloud.

_What the killing starts, this bastard is mine_, Murtagh hissed

Not if I get there first 

"Good, strong, young workers.. yes…you two shall be easy to sell to a high bidder. You girl… interesting… you will fetch an impressive price. And you boy…"

A spark of recognition flashed across his face and he touched the tip of his blade to Murtagh's chin, forcing him to raise his head for a better view.

"Do I know you?"

Murtagh help his tongue, but not his thoughts.

_I'm standing opposite Galbatorix's most wanted and he recognises me?!_

_Maybe he doesn't. Maybe you just have one of those faces?_

"Can it be? One of the Empire's bounties comes to us?!"

_You were saying? _

_Well this just gets better and better…_

"This is truly a good day. Are there any more surprises?"

He cast his eyes around and they landed on the cloaked bundle on the floor.

"What is this?"

Leaving Murtagh back under the supervision of one of his men, he removed the cloak from whatever was underneath. He gasped and laughed as he stared down at the figure. Placing his fingers on her neck, he felt for a pulse. It was small. It was weak. But it was there and whilst this creature lived, she was worth more than money could buy. This would make a legend of him and his men. He faced his crew, beaming.

"Gentlemen.. we have ourselves… an _elf_"

Eragon tensed. Murtagh shot Lia a mocking sneer.

_Yes… that plan worked perfectly_

_Shut up and save your energy. We're going to need it_

The leader scratched the stubble on his chin and pointed at each of the captives and took a head count. Five of them. Including himself, there were only four men to keep them under control. It could be done. But under these conditions, it would prove more practical to keep the numbers equal.

"We don't need them all. We can afford to lose one. But who will it be?"

He walked past Murtagh and Lia. There was no chance of it being either of them. The boy was too valuable and a woman of that physique and ability would provide great entertainment. He stopped before Eragon and Ella. Ella was a girl. Tall, beautiful and would be sold quickly. His gaze settled on Eragon. A young male. Just a normal looking young man. No qualities were setting him apart from the rest.

"It's nothing personal boy, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you"

The other men chuckled menacingly. Eragon's heart stopped. This was the end? The leader lifted his sword. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Ella began to cry hopelessly. Murtagh and Lia had no need to debate their next action. There was no question as to what they needed to do. Unanimously, they lashed out with their elbows and sent them smashing into the faces of the men at their sides. Whilst they staggered backwards, Murtagh and Lia picked up their weapons.

Eragon felt his blood boil once more. He couldn't die. He refused to die here and now. Not like this. Not being remembered for bringing the deaths of others by a stupid mistake. He wanted to live. He had to live. He had a mission and he wanted to make amends with his friends. His need took over all thoughts and feelings. Even his own body surrendered itself in order to achieve what happened next. A surge of power stirred within him. He wasn't sure what it was or what it would do, but it seemed to want what he wanted. The air around him pulsed for a moment, before a powerful force exploded from him, sending everyone around him flying into the air. Bodies, weapons and horses shot in every direction. Everything was a blur.

Murtagh hit the ground first. Lia landed two feet to his right. The first thing they noticed upon impact was that their hands were empty. Lia glanced to her right and saw one of her swords beside her. She picked it up hurriedly. Myurtagh scrutinised the blade that lay before him.

_That's not mine…_

_Where is my second?_

A gurgling noise alerted them to a presence behind them. Murtagh armed himself with the alien weapon and they both turned; swords poised. Lia's face blanched. Murtagh wrinkled his noise. The man directly behind him sat with slowly blinking eyes, staring into nothing, he was trying to speak. But only a strange hissing and bubbling noise left his lips as Murtagh's sword was lodged to the hilt in his throat. Lia grimaced at the man that lay behind her. He was dead, courtesy of her second blade pierced through his head via his eye socket. She moaned in disgust. Murtagh looked at her; a little surprised at her reaction. She sighed.

"That had better not stain the steel"

Murtagh chuckled and slapped her on the shoulder.

"A girl after my own heart"

Eragon stared at his handiwork in both horror and awe. Awe toward the inner strength he never believed he could ever posses. Horror at what he had done. Two of the men had died by luck. If you could all any form of death lucky? It sickened him how easily it could have been any of his colleagues. Murtagh and Lia were unharmed. The horses were long gone. Where was Ella? He spun around.

"No!" Eragon shouted

The terrified leader stood shaking from head to toe; Ella trapped in an arm lock with a knife held to her throat. The other man who had survived had started to tun away. Murtagh saw him first. He nodded to Lia, who reached for the dagger by her boot. She never paused. It was two fluid movements. She took the dagger. She threw. There was no stopping to take aim. She knew what she wanted to hit. The dagger obeyed. It slammed in the middle of the man's back. He went down and he stayed down.

Ella never had a chance to resist. She had just registered what had happened when she was grabbed. She had started to struggle, when she felt the cold metal against her neck. Seconds later, Eragon yelled in protest. She was petrified. Murtagh and Lia took a slow step forward. The leader, catching the movement from the corner of his eye pressed the blade harder, forcing Ella to cry out. His eyes darted frantically between the two of them and Eragon.

"Stay back! Stay back or I swear if you come a step close, I will slit her throat open!"

Eragon's eyes blazed with anger. The leader shook his head at him and laughed like a madman.

"You boy!… I don't know who or what you are! But you try any more of that devilry!… If I feel the slightest movement of a hair on my head! She dies!"

Filled with anguish, Eragon cold only look to the two people who could do anything. Their expressions were impassive. They stood calmly. Murtagh licked his lips.

_You'd better say goodbye to your little friend, because unless you're seeing something I'm not, there's no way out of this_

_There has to be…_

_The Rider can't do anything. You heard the man. He feels the slightest change in the wind and he'll kill her. He is skittish and dangerous_

_That means it's up to us_

_Look at Eragon's face. He's accepted he has to let her go. Why can't you? His safety is our priority. It isn't fair. But what is?_

_If we let him take her, she will be sold as a slave and out here, he can do anything to her. She didn't reach her freedom to suffer this. She's rather die than go with him_

_You don't know what Lia…_

_Yes I do. And so do you. Knowing you would suffer this fate, how would you feel?_

…_I'd rather die_

_It would be better for her to die in a rescue attempt than be raped and killed by this bastard_

_Could you live with her blood on your hands?_

_I can't live knowing that I did nothing…_

_What is your plan of action?_

_It's simple…we charge him_

_We charge him?! Run at him with swords raised and a cry of battle?!_

_He may be skittish, but he's a bloody coward. Any man that uses a little girl to protect himself is nothing less. Once he thinks we do not care for her life. He will cast her aside_

_And if you're wrong?_

_We kill him anyway_

_Is this the same man that kicked my sword?_

_The very same_

_Then that's good enough for me_

_On the count of three?_

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

They were just standing there. Doing nothing. There was nothing they could do. Eragon felt utterly useless. Even the two people whose capabilities he would never question were reduced to watching Ella being taken away. There was no choice. They had to let her go. He wanted to meet her eyes one more time. It was too painful. Digging his nails into his palms, he closed his eyes. That was until he heard the two roars erupt from opposite him.

Like a pair of berserkers, Murtagh and Lia ran at the man, wielding their swords. The Slaver panicked and in that moment, he fearfully let go of his only means of defence. Ella ran as fast as she could towards Eragon, who caught her in a tight embrace. With her head buried in his shoulder, she did not see what he saw. His eyes widened in repulsion. It was so appalling, he could not look away.

The Slaver froze as the two crazed lunatics came running at him from either side. He dropped his dagger. He barely even had a chance to turn in order to escape. Murtagh swung his blade across the man's neck. At the same time, Lia stooped and slashed her blade hard through his middle. Both blades passed through him with ease. The man stopped. His attackers took a step back and stared at him, waiting expectantly. The leader's eyes flickered briefly, before his head rolled off his shoulders, hitting the floor with a sickening thud. His torso then appeared to slide away from the rest of him and a revolting stench filled the air, as his innards spilled out across the sand.

Eragon pushed Ella away, just in time to vomit. When Ella turned, she covered her mouth and looked away. Murtagh and Lia left the body and headed towards the two other dead men. Putting a foot on the heads of the corpses, they yanked out their blades and made a point of wiping the blood and gore on the deceased's clothing. When they finally appeared before the Rider, pleased with their success and handiwork, they stood looking proud. They expected a show of gratitude. Some form of thanks. Not the horrified looks that greeted them.

"No _thank you_?" Murtagh prompted

"… _Thank you_" Ella spoke so quietly, she was barely heard.

"_Thank you_?" Eragon asked in a tone that was far from thankful, "What were you _thinking_? She could have _died_?!"

"We did what we thought was best for her" Lia stated obviously.

"_Really_? Was mutilating that man what was _best_ for her?" Eragon's voice rose to a pitch of distress that they had never heard before.

"What are you _babbling_ about Rider?" Murtagh asked, oblivious to what the problem was.

"He was _unarmed_!"

"He used your _girlfriend_ as a human _shield_!?"

"He had already let her _go_! He _wasn't_ holding a _weapon_!"

"He was a _Slaver_!? He was _evil_! If _anything_, we granted him a _swifter_ death than he _deserved_!"

"Is killing so _easy_ for you both? Does the brutality with which you strike your foes come _naturally_ to you? Do you feel no _disgust_ when you must retrieve your weapons from these bodies? What is _wrong _with you?! I.. I don't understand how you can dedicate yourselves to a good cause and yet act in this way?!"

"_Why _are we like this? We are trained _fighters_ Rider. We have _seen_, _fought_ and _done_ more than you can _imagine_. What comes naturally to us comes from _years_ of numbing against the cruelty of this world. Do you forget? If it were not for our methods and initiative, you would not be alive" Murtagh informed him.

"We do not kill unless _necessary_ Eragon" Lia added, "And our deaths are _swift_. If we _toyed _with victims then I could see your grudge. But what we did was _merciful_"

"Neither of you can know what it was like to witness what you did…" 

Lia looked past Eragon and spoke softly to Ella.

"Are you hurt?"

"_No_…"

"Do _you_ feel the same as way the Rider?"

"No… I am just a little shaken.. I… I know you both do what you have to do for the greater good… And I _am_ thankful that you saved me…If he had taken me… I would have taken my own life…"

Eragon looked from Ella to Lia and finally to Murtagh.

"Am I the _only _person who is disturbed by what just happened?"

Murtagh and Lia stared at him. Ella's face had regained a little colour. She took his hand. He felt no comfort from her touch.

"They were just fulfilling their duty…" 

He snatched his hand out of her gold. Hurt, she recoiled.

"I'm calling Saphira. We tie the elf back on her back. We move until we can move no more. Ella. You ride beside them. I wish to be alone…"

No one responded to his statement. He called Saphira. After a slightly longer than expected wait, she arrived. Saphira hovered in the sky above them and took in the scene. Four bodies. All this time, she had read Eragons' emotions as some tantrum. He had never called. Had she known that he was in danger, she never would have left his side! Landing heavily enough in front of them to make them jump back, she flung her head back and roared ferociously.

_WHAT HAPPENED?! WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL FOR MY AID?! YOU PROUD IDIOT?! WHY?!?!_

_Saphira.. I will tell you everything tonight.. But we are unhurt.. So please… calm yourself and let us re-tie the elf…_

She snorted at him and snapped her teeth. All anger had left him. There was only a sudden loneliness, confusion and a need to find a place to sit and think. He sent her his need. Her growing reduced to a hiss. Lowering herself, she allowed them to carry out their task. Murtagh and Ella didn't move. Lia helped Eragon with the elf. When the last strap was tightened, Saphira looked down upon the girl whom she had once considered a reliable friend.

_You put my Rider's life in danger and you did not send for me. You have betrayed my trust._

_I did what I had to do to keep him alive_

_You should have called me_

_I couldn't_

_If I cannot trust you, I will not leave him in your hands_

Lia turned her back on the dragon and marched back to Murtagh, fuming. Saphira leapt back into the air. Eragon rode off without a further word. Ella hopped into Tornac's saddle and waited. Taking a moment to calm herself, Lia gave Murtagh a brief nod, before starting to run. Murtagh followed. Ella rode slightly ahead. No body spoke. The only thing that they shared was the need to rest and forget. But they could not. Things had changed. Things were different. No one was certain if the company could recover.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

The camp was a dead place that night. Their reactions and words were mechanical and emotionless. Each faced a different direction from the other, attempting to find what little solitude they could. Eragon sat before Saphira. Murtagh and Lia sat back to back, gazing up into the starlit sky. Ella sat beside the horses hugging her knees, whilst occasionally being prodded by Tornac's nose in an affectionate manner. It had been an hour since they had stopped. An hour in which Eragon told Saphira every action and word that had taken place from the moment she had left them. Saphira listened intently without interruption. When he had finished his detailed account, there was a long pause before the dragon spoke.

_Child… I love you…But you were a fool_

_I know, but…_

_Please Eragon…_

_But what they did!…_

…_Happened after you nearly cost them their lives and does not justify the hurt nor damage for which you are personally responsible for_

_What I said to them was wrong and I am sorry_

_Have you told them that?_

_No… Because every time I look at them I… I see what they did…_

_Little one… you can no longer be naïve. There is a war coming. Would you rather they were on your side or theirs?_

_That's not the point…_

_Yes it is… Wars are led by people such as you and fought by warriors like them. We need them. Wars are an ugly affair Eragon. They are not won by kind words and reasoning. They are won by the spilling of blood. You must ready yourself, for what you saw was only the beginning. Did you think that once we reached the Varden things would be easier? They are waiting for you to join the battle and lead them! You will be organising troops and sending men to both suffer and bring death on a grand scale. This is your duty Eragon. Whether you like it or not, this is your future…_

_I know… I just… I wasn't ready to see it… I'm not ready for any of this… am I?_

With his back to the rest, only Saphira could see the doubt in his eyes. Staring back at him, she spoke in a tone that held nothing back. Where was the use in lies?

_Whether you are ready or not counts for nothing. We have a role to fulfil and we will do it. You are stronger than you know…_

_I do not feel strong… I feel weak… pathetic…_

_It will not last long. Soon, you will have responsibilities that will test your strength and resolve and you will succeed. We will succeed_

_Until then, must I feel this way?_

_The only person that can change your perception of yourself is you Eragon. You feel this way because you assume you have lost the support and high regard of your companions. If you speak with them. If you make amends, things will improve. Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, your friends give you a strength that even I cannot_

Murtagh's thoughts were spinning out of control. Lia could barely keep track of them. Images and words that were not her own made it impossible for her to think. Wearily, her head fell backwards until it rested against his back. Reaching a hand over his shoulder, he ruffled the hair on the top of her head. It was the first warm and remotely friendly gesture exchanged in hours. Their sitting back to back was not out of finding comfort. It was the only means by which they could stay sitting upright. The afternoon had left them drained, both physically and emotionally. Lia swiped away the annoying hand. Disturbed from her drowsiness, she lifted her head away from him. He was going to speak. She could feel that whatever he was about to say was something he had been contemplating for a long time. With a finger, Murtagh began to trace patterns in the sand.

_Why don't we leave?_

_Are you serious?_

_Yes…and no. You heard the things he said. They may have been in anger, but it doesn't make them any less true. And the look on his face after we killed. Lia, he doesn't want us here. Why should we stay?_

_We need to get him to the Varden_

_Then give him directions!_

_Oh yes! Because he would be so capable of following them! There is another two weeks left of this journey at least. We have to see him safe_

_Very well. We see him to the entrance leading to the Varden. Then we leave_

_We do?_ Lia asked with with exaggerated curiosity

_Of course we do! If the Varden need the Rider so badly, they can baby-sit him! Our role will be fulfilled. We shall be free to leave_

_You've actually given this some thought haven't you?_

_Why the hell not?! So… here is the plan. We leave him. We pick a direction and we get out of this place_

_And then what?_

_Whatever we like_

_We're both wanted by the Empire. Our options are rather limited…_

_So we'll go from town to town cheating, stealing and whoring?! By God Lia, it will be fun! We can make our own mischief, without worrying about having to protect some imbecile!_

_It does sound rather ideal… but what of the Varden?_

_What of them?_

_If we joined them, we could fight in this war. We could be protected. Would that be so bad?_

_You Lia. Not I…_

_Because of your father?_

_Lia… what do you know of the Varden?_

_Only what the stories say_

_Have you heard of Ajihad?_

_Their leader?_

_Very good. Now, have you heard of Za'roc?_

_Yes…it was your father's sword. The blade that Eragon carries. You told have told me this before_

_Did you pay much attention to its' description?_

_Yes_

_If you look closely, there is but a single mark on that blade. That was left by Ajihad. So tell me Lia, how could the man who looked into the eyes of Morzan The Forsworn not recognise me as his son?_

He turned his head to the side. Lifting her head up to look at him, she saw once more the disturbing resemblance he shared with his father. It was only the eyes, but it was enough. She had recognised them from a drawing she had seen on numerous occasions. One look and Ajihad would know who he was. Ashamed of his parentage, Murtagh turned away.

_They will execute me Lia…They won't see reason… They will only see him…They will not care that I am not my father. Like your initial reaction and those of others, the fact that his blood runs through my veins will be enough to seal my fate_

Lia didn't reply. How could she argue with a statement so true? Would she join the Varden if she could? Would she follow Eragon if she were able? Yes. Opposing the Empire had long since the death of Morzan been her dream. But to leave Murtagh? Never. It was out of the question.

Then that is it. We lead him where we promised and then we leave 

Murtagh gazed down at his left palm and the silvery face that stared back at him. A sadness overcame him. The torment his father brought him was enough. For another to suffer alongside him needlessly was too cruel. With the fingers of his other hand, he touched her glowing face. In the light of the moon, her features looked so real, he wondered if the small Lia would recoil from his touch.

_You…You don't have to come…with me…This is your opportunity Lia…Why should you have to walk away from it?_

He closed his hand, as if it would make him forget. As if not seeing Lia's imprinted face meant that it was no longer there. He could not look at any form of her whilst he waited for her reply. Considering he was an impatient man at the best of times, he did not have to wait for long. His response came in the form of her elbow smashing into his ribs. The next thing he knew was Lia standing in front of him; her face a picture of undiluted rage. Kicking him in the chest, she sent him to the ground, where she punched him hard in the face. He felt his nose snap and blood spurt out. Leaping up once more, she pressed her foot to the side of his neck. He tried to move it. She was too strong. Her mistake was but one. She had forgotten about his legs. Kicking up high, a foot connected with the small of her back. Her foot slipped from him. In this moment, he yanked one of her legs from under her and she joined him on the floor. Rolling on top of her, he pinned her down. When she tried to get up, he smashed his head against his forehead.

Eragon and Ella started at the sound of the unexpected fight. They both ran towards them, grabbed hold of Murtagh and yanked him off Lia. Having his arms held back, Murtagh grunted and attempted to shake them off. Blood was streaming from his nose. Spittle hung from his lips. If they thought that holding one of them back would cease the brawl, they were mistaken. Lia, slightly concussed, shook her head a few times, stood, swayed, staggered a few steps and then ran at her opponent. Murtagh broke free and charged out to meet her. Before they could meet, Saphira's head appeared between them with a manacling growl.

"Enough!"

Eragon was bewildered by their sudden attack on each other. One moment they were sat together, amiable as ever. The next… this?! What was wrong with them?! For the first time, he cursed their mental connection. It made interpreting their actions nigh impossible! When Saphira was certain that they had calmed down, she slowly withdrew her head; only enough so that they were able to stand face to face.

They glared at each other murderously. With heaving chests, they were still fuelled by their emotions. Murtagh eyed her forehead. The skin had split and blood was pouring down her forehead, over her eyebrow and into her eye; causing her to squint back at him. He may have felt the slightest remorse if his nose didn't feel like it had just exploded from his face. Regardless of how openly they had fought, this was still a private affair. He would not discuss their issues aloud.

_What the hell is that matter with you woman?!?!?!_

_You even need to ask?! _

_You're acting like a lunatic?!_

_I cut my palm for you!_

_I know?!_

_I made a promise!_

_I know!?!_

_We made each other a promise!_

_I know! I was there, remember?! What I was suggesting to you; I was just trying to be considerate to…_

_Are you that eager to be free of all this?!_

_What?!_

_Free of our promise?! Our bond?!_

_What are you ranting about?!?!_

_Don't I…Doesn't all that we have been through mean anything to you?!…Anything at all?!_

Upon realising what she had said, she could say no more. She could not undo what was done. She had spoken that which she dared not even think. How could she look him in the eye? She had no choice. She had to.

Stunned, Murtagh couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He had never meant to cause her offence. Meeting her eyes, he stepped forward. Saphira gave a soft, warning grown, but allowed him the movement.

_That isn't the case…_

_It… It isn't?!_

_No you stupid bitch! These past few months… being with you… have been the best of my life!_

_Then… then why did you offer to…_

_Because I care about you! Alright?! Because I know it is what you want!_

_It may be what I want… But I will not go…I refuse… I will not go where you cannot follow…_

…_Why?_

_For pity's sake Murtagh, not everything revolves around our promise! You… you are my only friend…_

_My dear lady, as you are mine… But… But damn it! Did you have to break my bloody nose?!_

Guiltily, Lia approached him. He held his hands over his face and she gently lifted them away, assessing the damage.

_I did get a little carried away_

_You think?!_

_Hold still you big ogre!_

…_How badly is this going to hurt?_

_You won't feel a thing…just stay…perfectly still…_

Trusting her, he let his hands drop to his sides. Placing a thumb on either side of the bridge of his nose, she thought about counting and changed her mind. Snapping his nose back into place, he roared in agony; hands scrambling for his nose as if checking it were still attached. Trying to hide his initial reaction, he burst into a mild coughing fit, however his watering eyes betrayed him.

_So… how do I look? Am I still prettier than the Rider?_

_You've looked better_

_So have you!_

_I don't look that bad…do I?_

_I… I think I cracked your head open…_

_Well I broke your nose…Consider us even…_

Nodding at her, Murtagh took her by the arm and led her away from the others to where they had previously sat. Eragon, Ella and Saphira could only stare as the two of them ambled past without a word. Ella leaned into Eragon and whispered quietly.

"Have they… gone mad?"

"No… they're just being themselves"

"What should we do now?"

"Leave them be"

Leaving her side to find the small medical package which was kept in Snowfire's saddlebag, Murtagh prepared to see to her wounds as she had seen to his. When he returned, he removed some salve and also a needle and some thread. Lia eyed them nervously.

Do you even know how to use them? 

Murtagh grinned and threaded the needle at his first attempt. Lia's brow arched in surprise and despite her pain, she smirked at him mockingly.

"_You_ know _needlework_?"

Whipping his head around, he checked that no body else had heard. Satisfied that their conversation remained private, he threw her an embarrassed look before readying some salve to place on the wound.

_When I was a child, it was all the maids would care to teach me. They had little practice with the entertaining of little boys_

_Murtagh… I have the most unsightly hole in my cloak. Would you be a darling and stitch it back together for me?_

I think I would rather stitch my initials onto your head 

_I'd rather you didn't. It's bad enough I carry your hideous face on my hand_

Leaning her head back, Murtagh rubbed some of the salve into the cut. She hissed, but did not budge. Arranging the fingers of one hand around the area, he held the needle in the other. Their eyes met briefly, before Lia felt the prick of the needle and the burning sensation as it passed through her skin. Gnashing her teeth together, she did not utter a sound as he stitched the skin back together. Making tiny, practical stitches, Murtagh ensured that the wound would heal quickly and the scarring would be minimal. Whilst he worked, he spoke.

_You know…you frightened me back there…_

_I frightened myself…_

_We hold back many thoughts…emotions…and maybe…maybe we shouldn't…_

_It's only natural…_

_For others perhaps… But not for us… Not any more… What we have, we share… To try and fight it is like…fighting against nature…This…All of this…It is out of our control…_

_I told you how I feel…_

_Yes… you did… after all hell broke loose between us…_

_I…I am not comfortable discussing how I feel…_

_And I am?! Lia. You and I…we are no different…_

_I know…_

_What you know of me…What I have told you… What I have shared with you…I have shared with no other…I used to want to keep a part of myself to call my own… A part that even you could not touch…But I see now…I cannot…_

_Do you know what scares me the most about what we have?_

…_What?_

_That I like it…_

The needle pricked her skin for the final time, as Murtagh applied the finishing touches and applied more salve over the fresh stitches. His concentration was elsewhere, but somewhere within him, she felt a surge of warmth. It encouraged her to continue. Against her will, she spoke. She spoke not because she wanted to, but because she had to. He was right. Hiding things was too hard. It had been a long time since she had reacted with such violence to a situation that could have been avoided had both sides communicated properly. She did not want anything like this to happen again. Although her head was tilted up to his, she focused her eyes elsewhere. It didn't matter that he could see into her mind. She did not want him to look into her eyes.

_Sometimes…sometimes I dream…I dream of my days wandering alone… Except they are no longer dreams… They are nightmares…I know… it sounds ridiculous!…Compared to what I witnessed every night for years and years, it is a heavenly vision…But I wake up…and I feel cold…empty…nauseous…and then…then I feel you…_

Unable to occupy himself with any more treatment, he sat before her and fumbled ever so slightly as he cleaned and replaced the contents of the package. Was the temperature rising once more? Or was it his insides? Eyes down, he said nothing but listened as she continued.

_You see…little terrifies me in this life…But this?…This is my new nightmare…The thought that makes me wake in a cold sweat…The thought of waking up and not having a part of you within me…I never thought I could feel this way…I used to want nothing more than to be alone…But now…I can't imagine a moment without you being here…I need this bond…I…I need…_

He stopped her answer by taking her right hand into his left. As the two marked palms joined, a tingling sensation rushed up their arms and throughout their bodies. There were no words that could describe the feeling. Only that it was one of being complete. Squeezing her hand all the tighter, she looked up. Her expression serious. With baited breath, she braced herself for whatever he said next. The corner of his mouth twitched as he suppressed a broad smile. She felt herself relax, noting that they were slipping into their normal roles. She raised a brow.

_Don't think I don't see where this is going…_

_Well with all this caring and sharing, I see no harm in asking?_

_Would you like me to rearrange your face once more?_

_Are you ever going to tell me about that dream? _

Ignoring his question, she withdrew her hand from his and reached for his face. He stopped and stared at her in surprise, which turned to longing as her face moved towards his. Her fingers rested on his cheek and her thumb rested on his upper lip. When her face was inches from his, she moved her thumb across his lip and under his nose, wiping away the remains of the now dried blood. His gaze fell to her lips as she moved away, with a wicked grin that for some bizarre reason caused a rather enjoyable shiver to pass through him.

_Murtagh… I have respected the need for honesty between us…But you have to respect that there will always be a few, small details that shall forever remain a mystery_

With a wink, she rose to her feet and gestured him to join her.

What now? 

_We speak with the others_

_About what?_

_About whatever will put an end to this… this day…_

_Agreed_

Eragon and Ella stood a few feet from each other. Neither said a word. When one would secretly glance at the other, the other would look away. Saphira, growing bored of watching the two of them avoid contact and yet so desperately seek it, gave Eragon a hard shove in Ella's direction with the aid of her tail. They both opened their mouths to speak, but then closed them and stared at the floor. Saphira rolled her large eyes.

Will you just speak to her?! 

"How…how are you?" Eragon asked, nervously

"I'm alright..." Ella gave a quick polite smile, before dipping her head once more

"Ella…Words cannot express how sorry I am...I nearly got you killed…"

Looking sideways, he saw Murtagh and Lia stop before them. They looked a mess. But they appeared themselves once more. There was no excuse not to apologise to all of them. They were all here. Whilst he had the courage and they were listening, there was no better time.

"I nearly got you _all _killed… There is no excuse for the things that I said…The accusations that I made…Nor the way in which I behaved. Ella…I dragged you along with me when I had no right. Murtagh…Lia…I am ashamed of the way in which I treated the both of you and the way in which I reacted to your actions…I do not know what you now think of me, but know that I am truly sorry. If there is anything that I can do to once more to earn your trust, loyalty and most importantly, your forgiveness…please…tell me…"

Saphira exhaled a soft plume of smoke, pleased with his words and surveyed Murtagh and Lia expectantly. The both of them stood staring at the Rider throughout the entire speech with neutral expressions. At his ending request, they briefly exchanged a look. Lia exhaled deeply.

"If you had ever lost our trust or loyalty Rider, we would not be here now"

"Face it Rider, after all this time, we know your predictable old arse only _too_ well" Murtagh said with a grin.

Hearing this small form of affectionate banter, Ella felt the cold leave the air. The camp was a warm place one more. Her relief at the end to the tension was so strong that she began to giggle. Murtagh and Lia joined in and even Eragon himself had to laugh. He looked around him. He saw all their faces, lit up by smiles that reminded him of who he was: the luckiest young man to exist. For what else could he be, when after blood, death and various other trials he could share a moment such as this with three friends?

"But I don't know…" Murtagh addressed Lia with a thoughtful expression on his face and a stroke of his chin, "He said he'd do _anything_?…"

"Now _now_. I think saving the Empire is _quite_ a chore enough"

"There is nothing to forgive Rider. Consider the past in the past"

The genuine feeling in his voice put Eragon's heart at ease. He offered them both a hand, which they took and shook.

"I can honestly say, I don't know what I would do without the two of you"

"You and me _both_ Rider" Murtagh agreed, slapping Eragon on the shoulder in a manly way.

"Is there anything either of you _cannot_ do?!" Eragon asked mockingly, although a part of him did often wonder.

"It is _curious_ that you should ask that question. For as a _woman_, I cannot sew, however _Murtagh_ here can knit you an _entire _sweater _and_ see to all your clothing alteration needs"

Eragon tried to keep a straight face. Peering into Murtagh's eyes, he tried to see if this was some jest or whether it was in fact _true_. With a frozen smile on his face, Murtagh closed his fingers around Lia's wrist tightly.

"Yes. _Hilarious _isn't she? Well. _We_ shall be getting some rest. I shall take the first watch. Good night Eragon, Ella and Saphira"

"Good night" Lia said over her shoulder, as she was half dragged back to where they had started the evening.

Eragon took Ella's hand; too afraid that if he offered it, she would reject it. To his joy, her fingers willingly closed around his.

"Goodnight Ella…"

"Goodnight Eragon"

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. She blushed, nodded and left him standing, staring after her. Saphira chuckled inside his head.

_My dear boy, you never told me that you liked her?_

_I thought you knew_

_You've kept so much from me as of late it is hardly surprising!_

_I… I haven't really thought about it…her…I mean…_

_Well, not that it will matter to you…But I like her_

_You do?_

_Yes_

_So do I_

I know 

Snuggling up to her warm side, he grinned secretly and closed his eyes. Ella too went to sleep feeling a little giddy on the inside. Smirking, Lia lay down on her side. When she reached for her cloak, Murtagh snatched it from her and then gently placed it over her, tucking it beneath her.

"_Comfortable_?" he asked

"_Very_" she replied

"Good. You just have yourself a _nice_ little rest. If you feel anything _strange_ during the course of the night, do not worry yourself. It will just be me making "_alterations_" to your _forehead_"

"Do what you must. Just don't forget to mend my cloak in the meantime"

As her eyelids drooped, she felt his amusement toward her reply and it brought a sleepy smile to her face. Just as she began to drift into sleep, she heard his voice one last time.

_Lia…you do realise that this is the second time that we've nearly killed each other?_

_Third time lucky? _

She felt something warm touch her forehead and then she was asleep. Stroking her brow, Murtagh watched as he both saw and felt her consciousness slip into wherever it disappeared when she dreamt. When he was sure she was asleep, he gave her one last look, before staring out into the darkness. It should have been a time to ponder things. To worry. To analyze. Instead, he had never felt more at peace with himself. He may have been battered and bruised, but he had gained something. Something that he had never wanted and yet craved since he sampled a small taste. He was a part of someone and more than that…he was wanted.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 

Eragon fell backwards, crashing into the kitchen table. He managed to avoid Roran's first attack. He wasn't sure if he could avoid the rest. Considering he was trapped inside a dream, the pain was alarmingly real. With each impact, he was certain that he would wake to see the bruising. Then again, there was the part of him that wondered if he would wake at all. The carving knife swept towards his head. Falling to the floor just in time, the blade missed him by a fraction of a second. Rolling forward, Eragon ran towards the stairs. He didn't dare look back. He could hear his cousin's deep, ragged breaths not far behind him. Racing up the stairs two at a time, he couldn't image why on earth he hadn't chosen to escape via the front door? He couldn't change his mind now.

He reached the landing. There were three doors. The first room belonged to Garrow. The second to Roran and the last was his own. Without hesitation, he headed for the safety of his room. His hand touched the handle as he heard Roran's bloodthirsty cry of "MURDERER!". He looked up to see a butcher's cleave spinning through the air, hurtling towards him. There wasn't enough time to move. He braced himself. That very moment, his bedroom door swung open, an arm reached out and pulled him to safety. The door slammed shut on its own accord. There was no noise coming from the other side. Pressing his ear to the door, he strained to hear what was happening. Nothing. He didn't question the possibilities or reasoning. He knew that for the moment, he was safe. That was enough. Turning, he leaned against the door; deciding it was time to see who had come to his aid. He blinked in surprise. Chewing on his lower lip, he tried not to laugh. Assuming a serious and inquisitive voice, he asked the question with as straight a face as he could manage.

"Lia…what are you doing here?"

"Saving your hide, as _usual_!"

She stood, hands on her hips and looking less than pleased. On any other occasion, her pose and expression may have caused him to feel slightly intimidated. But the pink, long flowing, frilly dress and ribbon in her hair rather killed whatever reaction she was expecting. Unable to take his eyes off the ribbon, he grinned.

"That… that's a _very_ fetching ribbon in your hair"

Making a mental note, he decided that upon waking, he would be interested to relay this aspect of his dream to the "_real_" Lia. The cold expression of the Lia before him slipped away, as she giggled in a disturbingly feminine way. It didn't suit her in the slightest. Curling a strand of hair around her index finger, she smiled at him sweetly, looking up at him through her lashes.

"It _is_, isn't it?"

"What does Murtagh think of your new…_attire_?"

"Who?"

"Murtagh"

"Who is this _Murtagh_?"

All amusement left him. Her choice of clothing was hard enough to accept, but forgetting Murtagh?! This seemed even more unlikely and impossible.

"Murtagh! The young man which you were wrestling with when… when I saw you here before?!"

Deeply affronted, Lia clasped a hand to her chest and inhaled sharply through her nose, as if the suggestion caused her the greatest hurt.

"I do not know _what_ you are talking about! _Wrestling_?! With a _young man_ I have never heard of?! I am a _Lady_!"

Her voice took on a shrill note that made him shrink back further against the door. This conversation was getting them no where. Inching his way around him room, he kept his distance from her. If anything, he found this form of Lia more terrifying than the real one. Holding a polite smile, he made it to his dresser table, before she gave him a quizzical look.

"Eragon, what _are_ you doing?"

"_Hmmm_?" he replied, unable to think of a proper response

"_Where_ are you going?"

"I…uh…" 

"He wants to see you, you _idiot_"

"Who?" he asked curiously

"_Him_" Lia said, pointing to the mirror behind him, giving him a look, which plainly read that she thought _he_ was out of his mind.

Glancing into the mirror, he saw no reflection other than his own.

"I don't know what you…"

Turning back to ask Lia who she was referring to, he saw that she had gone. Disappeared. He was alone in his room.

"Still sulking boy?"

Eragon's eyes took in every inch of the room searching for the owned or the voice. The voice that he missed so terribly. Only when he looked back at his reflection, did he notice another standing behind him. A man with a hard face, but kind eyes. Brom's lips twitched into a smile. Eragon wanted to turn around. To see the man that cast the reflection. But if he vanished the way that Lia had? No. He couldn't risk it. Not when this was the only chance that he might have to see him again. To speak with him. It didn't matter that he wasn't real. Or was he? He put his hand in his pocket. He felt the ring. He didn't know how or why. But maybe there were some things in his dreams that were more real than others. Locking eyes with his past teacher, trainer and friend, he felt the tears prickling his eyes.

"Brom.." he whimpered

"Have you been behaving yourself lad? Or is that a foolish question to ask?"

"Are you _really_ here? Is _any_ of this real?"

"Well that all _depends_…"

"On what?"

"_This_…"

Brom's voice had changed. It was no longer his own. Spinning around, Eragon saw Roran standing where the old man should have been. He barely had a chance to blink before Roran thrust the knife into his stomach. There was no pain. Only a cold. A cold that spread until he was shaking from head to toe. His body began to convulse in long, racking shivers. His legs could carry him no longer. Knees giving way, he fell.

When his body hit the ground, he awoke with a start. It was early, but the sun was already rising above them. He touched a hand to his face. His skin was warm to the touch. But on the inside, he could still feel the chill; a remnant of his haunting dream. Closing his eyes once more, he used this opportunity to calm himself. What were these dreams about? Did they mean anything? Was it just the heat that made them so bizarre? Did he really want to know the answer? He decided that for the moment, he did not.

The corridors formed a perfect square. There was neither a beginning nor end to it. It just _was_. On each side lay a single door. Lia had tried each and every one, but regardless of how hard she fought to open them, they would not move. Alone, she had been trapped in this place for what felt like several hours. When she had first appeared in this infuriating place, she had had more patience. There were no enemies here. No way in and no way out. The situation was not ideal, but as far as she could tell, she was in no danger. That was then. Now things were different. She had no wish to be stuck in here any longer. There were a few instances when she even found herself craving some foe to engage in combat with. Anything that meant she was not the only person existing here.

Resorting to desperate measures, she had taken to punching and kicking the nearest door until her knuckles bled and her foot was bruised. She had finally settled with taking a running start and using her body as a battering ram, when she heard the childish laugh. She was in mid run when she heard the sound. She stopped, skidding slightly on the polished marble floor and collided into the nearest wall. She knew that laugh. She had heard it once before. Mingled with the happy sound was a deep thrumming noise that echoed so loudly in her head, she swore she could feel it vibrating through her skull. It was a peculiar sound. Not unlike the purring of a cat, but amplified a hundred times in volume. Already, she knew that to search for the owner would be a waste of time. Somehow, this person could remain concealed and still speak within her mind. Too tired for manners or caution, she spoke without thought.

"Did _you_ do this?! Did _you_ create the place to _torment_ me?!"

_Young lady, you flatter yourself… This illusion is entirely of your own creation... The only person who wishes to torment you is… well… you_

"If this is my creation then what are _you_ doing here?"

I told you before. I like you. You interest me 

"If you like me so damn much, why don't you help me get the hell out of here?"

_You are beginning to loose patience. Have you ever stopped to think why that is?_

"I have other problems right now"

Like what? 

"Like waking up!"

Ah. So you know this is a dream? 

"A _nightmare _more like" she muttered darkly

_Time and space stand still here. If ever there was a time to reflect on how and why, it is now_

"I already know the answer to your question"

And does the answer please you? 

"The answer is a _fact_. It is something that _happened_. Whether it pleases me or not plays no part in what _is_. I have accepted it"

_Do you think that wise?_

"I… I don't know. But sometimes… people change"

Do you think you have changed for the better or for the worse? 

"Why do you ask all these questions?!"

Because… 

"Because what?!"

Because contrary to my principles, I feel an odd desire to help you 

"I do not need your help. I don't need anyone's h….." her sentence trailed off, as she thought of the one person who's help and presence she craved for so badly at that moment.

_You were saying?…_ the voice asked rather smugly

The voice mocked her now. Her hesitation had lasted a moment too long. Whatever he, she or _it_ was. It sensed her thoughts. And for that, she hated it. She would prove it wrong. Glaring in every direction, she hoped that it could see the determination in her eyes. She yelled to the ceiling and as she screamed the words, she realised that at that moment, she meant them.

"I DON'T NEED ANYONE'S HELP!"

The voice said nothing. There was silence. And then the purring started again. It was pleased.

_Good… never forget who you are Lia… for only in yourself will you find what it takes to chose the right path…_

There was a thoughtful pause. When it next spoke. The voice was warm, kind and filled with generosity.

_I'll show you the way out of here_

"You _will_?" Lia asked, unsure whether she trusted this thing as far as she could throw it. A difficult task considering she did know what it was and whether she could in fact pick it up.

Yes. I am in a fine mood, so I will throw in a little something extra 

"What kind of _something_?"

_There are found doors, as you have no doubt noticed from your struggle. The way out lies behind any of them. I shall open them for you. But you may only pick one. Behind three of the doors, I will place scenes that you may expect in your future. Behind the fourth, like the rest of this place, will lie a vision of your own making. It will be up to you to make what you will of what you see. I am bored now, I will leave. Choose a door. There is no right or wrong choice. Nothing you see will change what will happen._

"Do you _always _speak this way?!"

_I do. And I have come to a conclusion. No matter what you see, I know what you will decide. I have looked inside your heart and head. What you may see will only prepare you for what lies ahead. Goodbye Lia. We will meet again. But not in this place_

And then it was gone. Again. But this time Lia knew that there was way out. The doors that had looked normal before, each emitted a dim glow from underneath. Behind each door, something awaited her. Stepping before each one, she rested a hand against the wood. There were no handles. No doorknobs. They opened from the outside. It angered her that she couldn't just pick the nearest door and leave. But a part of her didn't want to choose just _any_ door. She wanted to choose her own. Whatever lay behind the others, she did not want to know. Why should she worry about what lay before her? Whatever she was shown would not please her. Of that much she was certain. After all, when was good news ever shrouded in so much secrecy? No. She would rather see whatever her mind saw fit. If her path was truly already chosen, she did not want any warning.

Finally, she stood before a door that felt different to the others. Having not been tampered with in a way that she could not describe. Pushing the door, a thought struck her. What if it knew that she would chose _this_ door and behind it lay things other than she expected? It was too late. The door opened slowly, and from it, a golden light bathed her, swallowing her whole.

The slam of the door and the clap of two hands startled her. She was inside a small, wooden cottage. A woman was fussing over a table, arranging platters of food. A lump rose in Lia's throat. She knew where she was. The woman talked to herself angrily before glancing at Lia as if she had only just noticed her. She did a double take of her daughter's appearance.

"Lia! What on _earth_ are you _wearing_?!"

"Mother…I…"

"Well it's too late to worry now! Go call your father and your sister. Supper is ready. You won't like it when it's cold"

"I… yes, mother…" 

Turning her back on the woman that had been dead for six years, Lia could not bring her legs to move. This had been her door, without a doubt. But why? Why would she do this to herself? Why couldn't she run and embrace her mother. Why did she feel the need to play along with this act that existed in her mind?

"Lia, _please_! Hurry up!"

It was no use. A trick of her consciousness or not, she could not be disobedient. Heading out of the door, she found herself looking at her village. Buildings were whole. People were alive. Just another normal day from her past. Her feet followed the familiar route to the blacksmith's. No longer in control of her actions, she let her body act on it's own accord. Head down, she couldn't look up at what wasn't real. Her feet only stopped when she heard the nearby sound of a hammer and anvil. Her father. It wasn't too late. If she pinched herself, maybe she would wake up? What was she thinking! Staring at her bleeding knuckles, she knew that it would change nothing. If only she could find some place to hide. Someone would be sure to wake her. It was only a matter of time. Her decision made, whether cowardly or not, she spun around. With her eyes already cast downwards, she came face to face with a little girl that smiled up at her.

"Lia! Play with me!"

Lia dropped to one knee and took both of her sister's hands in her own. Trying to keep a brave face, she returned the smile. But the tears still trickled down her face.

"I… I wish I could. But I have to go"

Her sister frowned and touched Lia's face, wiping away her tears.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I am happy… and sad"

"How can you cry if you are happy?"

"You'll understand when you're old…"

Unable to complete the word, she kissed one of the small hands and held it against her cheek. The little girl was not real. She would never grow older. She was just a memory. The moment ended with the hand being snatched away from her. She looked up to see her sister and the other inhabitants of the village moving around, looking confused. And then, as a thin layer of smoke started to rise from their skin, chaos erupted and the screaming began.

One by one, they burst into flames. Some of them seemed to simply melt, like heated wax, until they were nothing but a puddle of liquidated flesh and organs. Others fell to pieces; chunks of flesh loosened first and then dropped off, revealing white bone beneath. One of the latter was her sister. Horrified, she blanched as the little girl pointed a skeletal finger and cried out, with half of her face missing.

"WE WERE _ALIVE_ LIA?! WHY DID YOU BURN US _ALIVE_?!"

Lia felt the scream rising in her throat. It worked its way into her mouth. Her lips parted to let it out.

Lia 

The gentle voice that was so out of place in her surroundings acted like a plug removed from a sink. The village and everyone in it began to spin around and around, descending lower and lower until they were sucked back into her subconscious where they belonged. Left in the remaining darkness, Lia had no shape. Her consciousness lingered here and beside her, somewhere, was Saphira.

_Lia?_

_I am here_

_I am sorry to wake you, but I wished to speak with you_

Remembering the last time that they had exchanged words, she fell silent. Some of her anger returned.

_Then speak_

_I never apologised to you last night… I know I should have… But sometimes… we… us dragons… We are a proud race Lia… We do not like to admit when we are wrong…_

_Saphira… let us forget what was said…_

The dragon said no more, but a content silence fell between them. Whatever bad feeling had existed before was now gone. As Lia slowly returned to her body, she made no effort to open her eyes. Not just yet. She would wait just a little while longer.

Murtagh sat with his hands resting comfortably either side of the jug of ale. Beside him, complete strangers joked and laughed, paying him no attention whatsoever. Taking a swig of his drink, he looked around him. People from all walks of life were gathered here and all with the same ambition, to drink their problems away. Not one person seemed to give him a second look. In this place, it didn't matter who you were. In here, you were all the same. Unafraid of capture, he decided to enjoy his stay. _This is not a bad dream_, thought Murtagh, happily. _All that is missing is…_

As if on cue, a young lady caught his eye and turned away shyly. Beckoning her over with a finger, she approached him. Taking hold of her hand, he guided her onto his knee. This was more like it: a good atmosphere, a tasty beverage and an attractive woman. Dreams like this were hard to come by. Pleased that the knowledge didn't pull him from his sleep, he wasted not a moment. Beneath the table, he rested a hand on the girl's thigh. Slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her dress, his hand crept upwards. As it did so, he took one final glance around the place. The crowd was a lively one. One pair of eyes caught his attention. His hand stopped moving. Cold, hatred caused him to shove the girl from him and rise to his feet. His father smiled. It was neither friendly nor loving. In a word, it could only be described as evil. Stepping backwards into the crowd, he was out of sight. The front door swung open and slammed shut. Pushing, shoving and clambering over fallen stools, Murtagh fought his way through the oblivious dream folk to confront the man that was responsible for all the wrong in his life.

He made it through the door. The moment it shut, not a sound could be heard. Not the wind. Not a bird. Not a thing. He took a step. Even his own footsteps could not be heard. Jumping up and down hard several times, he hoped to hear the slamming noise of his boots against the ground. It was then he realised he could not even hear the sound of his breathing. Opening his mouth, he yelled at the top of his lungs. He could feel the air escaping his lips, but still, there was no sound. Perturbed, he relied on his other senses. A shadow caught his eye. A figure darting into an alley. He ran after it. The one benefit to this noiseless environment was that he did not have to worry about being quiet. Stopping at the entrance, he saw a cloaked figure. A hood pulled over his face.

"Always running…"

Creeping forward, Murtagh dreaded to see the face beneath the hood. The figure remained still. Waiting to be approached.

"You cannot run forever Murtagh"

"I can damn well try"

Half the distance between them was now closed. He was close enough now to see the mouth turned up at the corner into a smirk.

"Is it that terrifying to you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about"

"Oh I think that you do"

"Where is he?" Murtagh demanded, bored of whatever game his man was playing

"Who?"

"My fath… Morzan" he said with distaste

"He is right here"

There was no one standing between them. Only the hooded man before him. The hooded man, whose voice was chillingly familiar. Walking forwards, he bent down, peering underneath the hood. Only a few paces separated them now. Who was this man? It most certainly was not his father and yet… he had this distinct feeling that he knew who it was. His gut wrenched, warning him to step back and run away. However his curiosity would not let him leave unsatisfied.

"Who _are_ you?"

"I am disappointed in you Murtagh"

He was close enough now. The man made no attempt to show his face or move. Murtagh hesitated and then cautiously reached forward. It wads too much. With both hands, he took hold of the hood's edges. He had got this far. He wasn't about to turn back now. Throwing the hood back, he knitted his brow and rubbed the hells of his palms into his eyes. This was a mistake. A flaw in his dream. Unless this was some illusion? A trick of the light and shadows? A mirror? How else could he be looking at himself. Taking a step back, he shook his head in disbelief. His double grinned back at him. His actions were not replicated. This was no reflection. This… _he_… was some abomination. Backing away slowly, Murtagh was eager to be away. Anywhere but here. Being in the presence of… himself was more unnerving than the thought of running into his father. With each step that he shuffled back, his other self chuckled darkly and took a step forward.

"Stay back!" Murtagh warned him.

He heard the uncharacteristic note of desperation in his voice and bit down on his tongue, terrified that if he spoke further, his tone would embarrass him. He contemplated possible reasons why he should care? It was not as if anyone he knew was here to witness the moment. It was only himself… _literally_. But it _mattered_. It mattered to _him_. He had never felt this degree of fear towards anyone. Maybe one. But he was not here. He would not let himself get the better of… himself. He rolled his eyes, trying to imagine how this scene could be any more impossible. His other self stopped, cocked his head to the side and gave him a curious look.

"You really _don't _understand? _Do_ you?" his voice was incredulous as he eyed Murtagh with a mixture of pity and amusement.

"If you ever want to see your father, you need only look inside yourself"

Murtagh's lips parted a fraction, but he stopped himself from saying the words that he thought. That he honestly didn't understand a word of what was being implied. It was all nonsense of course. He set his jaw and stood firm. He would no longer tolerate any more foolish remarks or cryptic insinuations by this impostor. He didn't have to talk to him. He didn't have to believe a word. He was left little choice in the matter.

Knowing that words would never be enough, his other self's smile widened. Then it begun. The horrible change. Lumps rose beneath it's skin. He could no longer consider him a human being. What was happening before his very eyes was anything _but_ human. The lumps begun to crawl and writhe around, like a hoard of large beetles desperate to escape from beneath it's flesh. It's face distorted and bubbled before his very eyes and then,there he was. Morzan. Morzan who had existed within this creature. His father's eyes bored into his own and he found it impossible to move. The power they emanated held him fast. His lips tightened into a thin line. This was just a dream. Just a dream. The cold, yet seductive and velvety voice of his father spoke.

"Did you _honestly_ think I could be killed? Did you _honestly_ think that being relieved of my body would mean that I cease to _exist_? I am in _you_ Murtagh. And I will continue my work through you"

"N..n..no…" Murtagh stuttered 

Throwing his head back, Morzan laughed. The sound was chilling.

"You have no choice. I am _inside _you boy whether you like it or not. Your path has been set. No matter how far you run, you will eventually become what you hate the most..._Me_"

"NO!" Murtagh yelled.

He struggled with all his might against his father's gaze, but there was no hope. The invisible bonds that held him were too strong. Baring his teeth, he settled for glowering at the man he hated more than anything in the world.

"THIS IS JUST A DREAM!"

"Really?… Just a dream?" Morzan asked with a thoroughly interested expression on his face. He looked around himself and began to walk towards his son, until they were a foot apart.

"_Tell_ me…" Morzan asked, with a glint of excitement in his eyes "If this is _just_ a dream… can you feel… _this_?"

Upon his last word, he raised his hands, placed them either side of Murtagh's struggling head and pressed his thumbs to his eyes. Murtagh closed his eyes before the thumbs could touch them, but they rammed against his firmly closed lids and pressed hard against his eyeballs beneath.

All was peaceful. All was quiet. Lia was preparing herself to rise, when she felt a wave of panic, followed by a hoarse cry from beside her. Murtagh's hands clawed at his face. His nails grating against his cheeks and forehead. Lia sprung on top of him and grabbed hold of his hands. He continued to thrash his arms and buckle beneath her.

"MURTAGH!" she shouted

"MY EYES!" he screamed back at her

"WAKE UP DAMN IT!"

He could feel someone straining to hold back his arms. He could feel someone sat on his chest. He could hear Lia's screams. He then knew that he was awake. Gasping for air, his eyes sprang open. Lia's expression was no different from his own. A terrified look passed between them. Her hands let go of his arms, allowing them to flop to the ground. His head slumped back and he breathed heavily.

By now, Eragon and Saphira were staring at him, utterly bewildered by his display of behaviour. Ella appeared to stir ever so slightly from her sleep, but she did not wake. He averted all of their eyes. All except one. He felt ashamed. He was sure that his cheeks would have reddened, had there been any blood left in his face. He could feel it. He was as pale as a ghost; still frightened by what he had seen and heard. More than ever, he resented that Lia could feel what he felt. All he could do to avoid the subject was to turn his head away from her. She understood the meaning of the gesture. Climbing off his chest, she shifted to sit beside his head. He continued to face away from her.

Gazing down at his face, she felt nauseated by what he had done. She had heard tales of people hurting themselves in their sleep. Most were just small scratches. Purely accidental. This was different. He had done this to himself. It was deliberate. Whatever he had seen in his sleep had made him try to mutilate his own face. Hey eyes travelled to his hands. His fingers flexed and the curled into fists over and over again. Every time she caught a glimpse of his fingernails, her stomach lurched. Mingled with the usual dirt were traces of fresh blood and skin. From the corner of her eyes she saw Eragon looking uncomfortable. It looked as if he may have tried to speak. With a look, she silenced him. He dipped his head slowly and went about drawing their water for the day.

Murtagh didn't want to talk. That was fine. But if he thought that she could simply ignore the state of his face, then he was wrong. She left him to fetch some of her salve. In the few moments that she was not by his side, Murtagh took a few deep breaths, in order to calm his racing heart. It was all right now. He was awake. Lia had got him out of there before…no. Before nothing. It was a dream. What had happened to him; he had apparently done to himself. Thinking of his unconscious action for the first time, he was aware of several, stinging streaks running across his face. He winced quickly, before Lia could see.

Sitting herself back down, she coated her fingers in a thick layer of salve, before carefully tracing the lines down his face. One cut ran across his forehead, through his eyebrow and dangerously close to his eye. The other six were slashed across his cheeks. Three jagged gouges on each, starting at different points. It seemed a stupid question to ask, but she had to.

_Do you want to talk about it?_

_There is nothing to say_

I beg to differ 

_Lia…_

The warning in his tone was a feeble attempt to close the subject. Lia scoffed inwardly and taking his chin in her hand, she moved his face so that he was no longer able to look away. He gave up and stared back at her with a hard look.

_Lia…I do not want to talk about it_

_Well you are going to!_

_I just want to forget about it_

_That's easy for you to say and do! I'm the one who has to look at your scarred face all the time!_

_Like you haven't left enough scars of your own_

He tried to make his voice light hearted. If he tried to make this into some kind of joke, maybe she would ease off and let the incident pass without further comment. So much for his charm. She didn't laugh. Not even a hint of a smile touched her lips. Her eyes were filled with anger and concern. She was afraid for him. How could he possibly tell her what he saw? What he heard? She of all people! The only person that he cared about, knew who he was and accepted him without question.

Dream or no dream, he couldn't stand the thought of telling her what he had seen. Seeing the look in her eyes as she heard that Morzan was alive… inside _him_. No. He could not tell her. Why should he when it was just a nightmare? Unintentionally, he held his breath and clenched his teeth together, as these thoughts poked around his brain. He was looking into her eyes, but not seeing her. Trying hard to hide his thoughts. It was so difficult. The concentration required was bordering on painful.

Seeing his struggle, Lia's expression softened. Whatever he saw had been bad enough and private enough that he did not want to share it with her. Thinking back to her own nightmare, she shuddered and understood his need. She would not speak of what she saw and neither would he. As he noted the change in her expression, he seemed to relax a little. But his eyes still held that undertone of fear.

With no medical reason involved, Lia touched his cheek with one hand, careful to avoid the wounds. She did not look at him as she spoke. She only traced her fingers along the skin that remained unmarked. It was a motion that she spared little thought to. She was more disturbed by the way that she felt. The fact that she was saddened by the condition of his face. It was all very illogical. But still. It was harm caused by him self. Caused by his dreams. Caused by an area which was out of bounds to her and she was unable to help him. The thought left her feeling utterly useless, but more determined to try. She spoke with confidence. Was her reassurance for him or for her?

_Whatever we see in dreams. They're not real_

…_I know_

_So there is no need to think about it… or hurt yourself…_

…_I know_

_Of course I may have to tie you up when you sleep from now on_

She smirked. Her tone was light, but there was a serious undertone. Despite himself, he couldn't resist a tempting smile.

_My dear lady…if you're simply searching for an excuse to tie me up… you have only but to ask_

He raised his arms forward, wrists touching, inviting the shackles. She gazed at him hopelessly and pressed his arms back down again. As she did so, he shifted beneath her so that she fell directly on top of him. Her body was pressed up solidly against his. Her face landed against the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

Scrambling out with her arms, she lifted herself with the palms of her hands. Her body rose a few inches away, but her head was still unreasonably close to his. He turned his head a fraction, until his lips brushed against her cheek as he spoke. She felt a shiver pass through her. A shiver that was not _entirely_ unpleasant. She fought to keep the bemused look on her face. His voice was just above a whisper.

"Well _well_… This _does_ look rather... _compromising_… wouldn't you say?"

Biting down on her lip. Grudgingly, she had to admit to herself that she was fairly comfortable with her body almost moulded into his. In a platonic sense, she told herself. Her insides did a small flip at the thought of anything else and she shook off the impossible thought, before it could form and give her away.

She glared at him, but she couldn't help but be slightly relieved that his eyes were normal once more. His usual humour dancing behind them.

"You _wish_"

She made a disapproving sound at the back of her throat, before sneakily pressing her lips lightly to his forehead. It was not something she was accustomed to doing, but it oddly felt the right thing to do. The action caused his eyebrows to arch high, before he grinned optimistically. He raised a brow and muttered quietly.

"You know what _else_ needs a kiss better?"

Rolling off his muscular frame, she threw him a severe look that made him laugh out loud, and then headed towards Eragon to help prepare their simple breakfast. Murtagh sat up and watched her walk away. He couldn't have hid his affection towards her that moment even of he had tried. She was his saviour in so many ways. Her company saved him from dying of mind numbing boredom. Her skills were unmatched and even now, she saved him from the terror of his sleep. The nightmare and the pain were almost forgotten. Almost pushed from his mind. Her words and presence had melted away his concerns. It was decided. He had nothing to fear as long as he would wake beside her. Everything was going to be fine. They were inseparable. The thought pleased him more than it usually did. It would be perfect. Well, perfect as things could be.

Ella yawned noisily and opened her eyes slowly, squinting up against the bright sun. For the first time in a long while, she had slept soundly and she felt a healthy energy bring her to her feet.

Smiling at the others, she stretched her arms over her head and proceeded with her daily assessment of their surroundings. By now it was a habit. She never expected to see any change in the scenery. But upon looking behind the direction in which they faced, she noticed a high grey, rising and falling wall in the distance. Unable to contain herself, she screamed in delight.

"THE MOUNTAINS!"

Everyone turned. Everyone stood. They formed a line, facing the heavenly sight of the Beors. Saphira nudged Eragon playfully. Too relieved, too happy and too ecstatic to speak, he could only think to lay a hand on Lia's shoulder. If it weren't for her, they never would have made it. Nothing he could say would convey his gratitude. Ella raced towards the horses and hugged Tornac. Murtagh caught the movement from the corner of his eye. He waited for the jealously, but it would not come. There was no room for any other emotion than bliss. They were close to the end. Once they reached the mountains, they would be free. He would be free to merely exist with Lia and escape any grizzly fate he would endure otherwise.

"How far away is it?"

There was no concealing the excitement or impatience in Eragon's voice. Lia gazed ahead, speculating carefully before she replied.

"Now Rider. This is a sure reason to rejoice. But the Beors are _enormous_. I would say another week at the most…"

She expected his face to fall. Miraculously his smile held steadfast and he shrugged indifferently.

"I don't care. Not anymore. At least now was can actually _see_ where we are headed!"

His new found optimism caught her off guard. She tried to think of a reply, but her mouth simply hung slightly agape. Murtagh reached up with his thumb and index finger, and with a pinch, sealed her lips shut.

_Do not utter a word… If the Rider doesn't feel like being a pain in the arse for a whole day… who are we to argue?_

She stomped a foot on his toe. He let go. Eragon gave them an oddly fond look, before he walked back to Saphira. Spirits were high. The moutains were clear. A week seemed much less daunting now that their goal was in sight. With easy smiles and renewed patience, they re-tied the elf to Saphira and set off once more with new vigour towards the end of the line.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 

They had arrived. They were here. How long had it taken? A few days? More than the estimated week? Nobody knew. Nobody cared. However long it had lasted, the time had no meaning to the four of them. They stood on the outskirts of the forest that spread to the foot of the mountains. Their expressions were euphoric and yet, no- body moved. The sun was setting. It was the end of another day. With their continued strength and speed, they could make it to the Varden. So why could they not move? Eragon's smile slipped a fraction as the truth dawned on him. He couldn't take a further step. Not tonight. Not when…He cleared his throat and tried to speak with the air of confidence that Murtagh and Lia demonstrated so often.

"I think we should stop here for the rest of the evening"

"_Why_?" Murtagh blurted out, before he could contain himself.

Lia could feel his desperation to part from the others. She understood how he felt, or at least thought that she did, but her own feelings were mingled. She spoke in the Rider's defense:

"Whatever lies ahead, we shall all need our strength. We should set up camp in the forest at least".

"Yes" Eragon agreed, grateful that Lia was on some level, sharing his need.

Kicking at the dirt, Murtagh's shoulders slouched, defeated. He suddenly became aware of new noises around him. Noises that made him reach for his knife and smile greedily.

"Fine. Let us find a suitable spot and then... let us find some meat"

They all found their mouths salivating at the prospect of a proper meal. Without further ado or a backward glance at the desert, they disappeared, one by one, into the safe cover of the forest. Their new environment was so different. The various sounds played like music to their ears. They could hear birds, the scurrying around of small animals and the gentle cracking of the dried leaves brushing together in the wind. And the air was different. It was clearer. There were new smells too. The smell of the earth, the flowers, the trees and all the nature around them. They found themselves looking everywhere in wonder, inhaling the rich smells deeply. It was as if the desert had dulled their senses. Everything here seemed new. Like a child walking in the woods for the first time. It was magical.

Eragon and Ella found a spot. They tethered the horses and eagerly set up the wooden plates and pot and collected firewood in eager anticipation of the upcoming meal. Murtagh and Lia had stopped with them briefly, noted their position and then went their separate ways to do one of the things that they did best, find food.

They were not gone for too long before they appeared within minutes of each other. Lia appeared first with a large bird hanging form each hand. Murtagh appeared soon after with three rabbits. They set about skinning, plucking and dicing the fresh meat before throwing the contents into the pot. Lia lit the fire and soon, the delicious smell of their stew filled the air. Whilst they waited, they were all content to sit quietly, staring at the boiling, frothy mix reaching an edible state. As soon as the stew was divided into the bowls, they descended on them like a hungry pack of wolves. By the time they had finished, they rolled onto their sides heavily. Unaccustomed to such substantial food, they felt as if they could barely move.

The scene was a lazy one. With grease smeared hands, they attempted to wipe the greasy stains from around their mouths. Any change went unnoticed. Grinning at each other, they lay in a circle, relaxed and content. Having untied the elf, Saphira had left them to hunt for her own amusement. They did not fear her absence. There was a sense of safety here. They could not explain how, but each of them knew that this night, they would be safe.

Eragon took in the expressions on each of their faces and he felt a pang of sorrow. Everyone looked so peaceful, so happy. They were enjoying themselves. This was how he wanted to remember them all. Ella was gazing up at the trees and looking at all the different coloured leaves. Murtagh and Lia lay with their eyes closed, smiles playing on their lips. He had never seen them so completely at ease. They lay with their bodies facing opposite from each other and their heads almost touching. He grinned as he watched Murtagh extend a sly hand to pull at her hair and laughed as Lia beat him to it, slapping him up the side of his head.

"This is probably the last time we'll be together... the four of us," Eragon said regretfully.

"I shall miss this" Ella said with feeling.

Although Murtagh's expression remained the same, on the inside he groaned.

_Please! Please don't say that I am expected to take part in this heartfelt declaration of feelings!?!_

Be nice 

_Ugh!_

Rolling over onto his side, he propped himself up onto one elbow and scrutinised their faces. He had to stop his eyebrows from shooting upwards in alarm. Their remorse was genuine. They actually looked unhappy about the parting of the company. He thought hard for a moment. What could he possibly say that would not make him sound like he was overjoyed but neither a complete fiend?

"Well…it's been _interesting _Rider… that much I'll say" he said in a slow, deliberate voice.

Eragon smirked, as if he didn't expect a reply of any other sort. Ella giggled. Lia gave him an all too understanding look, before she chose her own words. Lying back down, Murtagh snorted to himself. Whatever she said would be perfect. For a warrior, he often deliberated whether she was too _nice_ at times.

Lia smiled at Eragon and found that despite all his annoyances and trouble that he always seemed to find, she almost liked him. Her words were directed to him, but briefly touching Saphira's mind, she included their meaning to her.

"It has been an honour Rider, one that I shall never forget"

Briefly turning his back to the others, Murtagh motioned two fingers to the back of his throat in a vomiting gesture. Lia shot him a dark look before covering it with an elegant smile. He had to stare at her for a few seconds, if only to admire the way she was able to switch between expressions so fluidly. No body else even seemed to notice. That _was_ the general idea.

Eragon sat himself up, crossed his legs and motioned them all to do the same. Following suit, they waited for whatever it was that he intended to say or do. He held their eyes one by one, before speaking with enthusiasm.

"We should talk... about our adventures!"

"We _should_?" Murtagh asked in a flat voice

"Yes! For _Ella's_ sake!"

"_Mine_?" Ella's face flushed

"Of course I've told her all that has happened to _me_. But what of you two? You come to rescue me! You fought Kull! You re-entered Gil' Ead! And yet we know nothing of what happened there. Tell us! I want to hear your stories!"

"I'd like that!" Ella said shyly, smiling at Lia.

Lia, momentarily stunned, uttered a few incoherent noises followed by a long, "_Hmmmmmm_…"

Murtagh gave her an incredulous look from the corner of his eye.

_Lia…lost for words… well this is a priceless moment_

_I don't exactly see you jumping in to save me?!_

_Oh no. You're handling this beautifully. I'd only be getting in your way_

_Oh shut up_

_I will_

_No don't! I need your help!_

_Since you asked so nicely…_

_We could tell them a ... condensed version of our tale?_

_Major editing and omitting of information will be necessary_

_Do you wish to start or shall I?_

I think... I'd like to give it a try... I may even throw in a lie or two 

_I hardly think lies are necessary to spice things up?_

_This is my last chance to have fun at the Rider's expense! Would you be so cruel as to deny me this chance? _

_As if I would rob you of the opportunity,. would I?_

_You could always make up a few things yourself. Maybe a man? There's nothing like a little nudity to bring some colour to our saviour's innocent cheeks_

And you accuse me of being cruel?! 

_Without a doubt_

_Fine… if this is going to be a game…_

_Isn't it always?_

_Let us have a contest…_

_You have my attention my lady, as always_

_Whoever makes him the most uncomfortable wins_

_Ha! I can taste sweet victory already!_

Do not be so sure of yourself Murtagh 

_I sincerely doubt that any of your intimate encounters have ever lived up to mine. The winner will require a male's imagination and expertise_

Lia gave him a coaxing smile in reply and gave a gentle wave of her hand towards the others. She was inviting him to start. His eyes glittered in excitement. Sensing that the story was about to begin, Eragon and Ella leaned forward in anticipation. They were ready for entertainment. Murtagh was determined not to disappoint them. And so, he launched into his story.

Lia sat back and watched as he talked animatedly and described events in such detail, that he had his audience "Oohing" and "Aahing" and shuddering at all the right moments. His pleasure radiated from him. She never quite imagined him as the storytelling type. It surprised her how evident his enjoyment was. Of course whilst she was listening to his tale, she was busy thinking of ways to expand on it. When he gestured for her to continue from where he had left off, she found the task disturbingly easy. The two faces stared at her; wide eyed and believing every word that was said. On some level, she supposed that it was a little terrible of them to see how far they could go. But it was far too easy and too appealing to resist.

This first part of the story was the longest they each spent on a turn. It also had the most battles, blood, guts and gore. From there on, things got a little out of hand. They tried to get one up on each other; inventing embarrassing stories about the other. This hadn't been part of the game; but it soon became as popular as the smuttiness that seemed to pop in between brawls. If their listeners had suspected that they were talking out of their rears, they showed no indication of it. As Murtagh and Lia busily interrupted each other rapidly to get the upper hand of the story, Eragon and Ella's eyes bounced back and forth between them, their attention rapt. It had never meant to last as long as it did, but hours later, when the sky was black and the stars were out, Murtagh closed the story with a line that left Eragon with his mouth hanging open and Ella with eyes close to popping out of her skull. Lia gave Murtagh an anxious look.

_Well… that wasn't taking it too far_

_Wait for it…_

_For what?! The throwing of rotten vegetables?!_

No sooner had she asked, applause broke through the air, followed by the sound of laughter. Murtagh winked at her and smoothed his hair away from his face. She gave the Rider and Ella an odd look, before looking rather pleased with herself.

So… who is the winner? 

_Me. Of course_

_Now Murtagh. Wait just one moment. I believe I made him squirm just as much as you did_

Believe me lady, with some of those stories you had me squirming 

_I told you I was good_

_Are you going to tell me if any of it was based on... let us say... true events?_

_No_

_If you leave it to my imagination, you will only make things worse for yourself_

_You're stuck inside my head for all eternity. I don't think it can get any worse_

_I'm sure I can make some arrangements to make it less pleasant_

If we say that you are the winner, will you please drop the subject? 

_For now… yes_

_Then I congratulate you_

_And what is my prize?_

_You want a prize?!_

_Certainly. And it has to be a good one_

I shall think on it… 

Saphira landed nearby. Seeing the looks on their faces, she bounded towards them and crouched down happily. Gazing intently at her Rider, she flickered out her tongue.

_You all seem in a fine mood. Did I miss anything good?_

_Only the most amazing story ever told!_

_Really? _

She sounded doubtful

_Yes! There was everything! Adventure! Battles! Humour and…_

His face turned scarlet before he added the end to his sentence

… _I'll tell you the rest when you're older…_

Saphira snorted a laugh 

_You keep your story… I somehow doubt that it compares to the dragon legends of old_

Not in the slightest 

Patting her side reassuringly, Eragon agreed. Although he privately thought that it would make a great tale to tell his future children by the fire one day, leaving out some of the more adult content of course.

It was late now. Rest was necessary. But he was too awake and he wanted this moment to last. Once more, they all lazed on the ground. Ella was watching the fire. Murtagh and Lia were grinning at each other, conversing privately no doubt. Saphira sensed their ease and made an offer that she had never made before.

_Tonight. I will stay watch. All of you need some time to rest and relax. Just this once. You will all need it_

Eragon relayed the message and no one seemed to argue. Lia curled over onto her side. Murtagh lay back with his arms folded behind his head. Only Ella and he remained seated. The silence was comfortable. The crackling of the flames soothing. Saphira turned her head to the side, giving them a little privacy. Resting her head on her paws, she realised that she too was weary. Maybe she should rest her eyes, just for a little while. She closed her large lids. Within seconds, she was fast asleep. Eragon felt her drift away and smiled. She deserved to rest just as much as the rest of them. He made no attempt to wake her.

"Goodnight Rider... Ella" Lia said sleepily

"Goodnight" Murtagh chimed in, sounding more awake that he should.

_Lia?_

_Yes?_

_Are you really tired?_

_No. Not really_

_Then why are we pretending to sleep?_

_You'll see…_

Eragon shuffled closer to Ella, until their elbows touched. He didn't want this night to end. If he could prolong it somehow, he would feel less regret in the morning.

"Ella… would you like to know more… about me?"

"I would love to"

"It isn't all that interesting. But I thought... maybe you might want to know?"

"Tell me everything"

Ella's glowing face and interest filled him with confidence.

"Alright... well… I was raised on a farm…"

And so, Eragon launched into a tale of his upbringing and his life on the farm. As he droned on and on, face unseen and words unheard, Murtagh struggled to keep his calm. In his mind, his voice was a threatening hiss.

_I… am… losing… my… will… to… live…._

If Eragon had been paying the slightest bit of attention to his other comrades, he woud not have noticed anything at a glance. However, had he looked harder, he would have noticed Lia silently shaking from the laughter that she released on the inside.

_Why are you laughing?!_ Murtagh fumed

His anger only seemed to make her laugh all the more harder. When she established some control over her state, she replied. But the words were slow and broken, as she struggled to contain her hysterics.

_It's… you!_

_I'm funny?_

You are getting… so worked up… over nothing! 

_Nothing?! You consider being subject to this endless drivel nothing?!?!_

_Oh I'm not paying attention to him. I'm getting far much more entertainment listening to your wild ranting!_

_Bloody pigs and cows! How can that girl listen to such a boring and mind numbing account of life on a stupid farm?!_

_She likes him_

_She's stupid!_

_Maybe she finds it interesting?!_

_How?!?! It's boring! My brain feels like it has died! And what on earth was that story involving a cow?!_

I think he was trying to be funny? 

_That was meant to be humour?! That was pathetic?! Do you know what story would have actually been funny?_

_Tell me_

_Any story that involved him being mauled to death by a flock of carnivorous sheep!_

Sent into another fit of giggles, Murtagh gave up on his rant and instead of listening to the Rider's monologue, he tuned him out and turned his attention to his other half.

_So… how far are we to the Varden?_

_Not very. There is a lake east of here. Not too far away. We follow the stream that feeds into it until we reach a waterfall. Behind that waterfall is the end of our journey_

_Interesting…_

_What is?_

_Two things. The first is… how the hell do you ever remember all these things?_

_I have a good memory. And the second thing?_

I'm working on that… 

_Murtagh… what are you thinking and hiding from me?_

_Get some rest. I have a feeling the farm boy saga will go on for a while_

_Murtagh... tell me whatever it is that you are plotting!_

_I am insulted! I am offended! I am…_

…_Full of dung?_

_Rest!_

_Tell me!_

You'll find out… 

_I've changed my mind... I am no longer interested_

_Well you should be. It does concern you_

_Then damn it tell me!_

_I shall give you a clue. It involves my "prize"_

I do not like the sound of that… 

_You are not meant to. It is my prize after all_

_Is resting really necessary?_

_Maybe…_

_You are hopeless_

_Goodnight Lia_

_Goodnight!_

She ignored him from then on and lapsed into her meditative state. Smugly, Murtagh waited for the heavenly moment when Eragon would stop talking. A long time passed. Before he could resort to desperate measures, Ella beat him to the punch; yawning a little more noisily than was considered normal. Eragon stopped mid sentence; no doubt realising that he had been going on and _on_. She could have been tired, but Murtagh doubted it. He rolled over onto his other side and watched them through eyes narrowed to the barest of slits.

"You're tired…," Eragon said, looking guilty and sounding glum.

"A bit" Ella admitted, emphasising her point by rubbing her eyes.

Eragon's face fell every so slightly.

"I was rambling for a long time… I'm surprised you didn't fall asleep during my story"

He meant it as a joke, but she didn't laugh. She avoided his eyes and sighed long and hard.

"It's not that I'm tired Eragon… I'm just being _cautious_"

"Of _what_?"

Frowning at him, she tried to tell him with her eyes. He could only stare back, oblivious to her attempts. Sometimes she did wish that he were a little more perceptive... or just plain _brighter_.

"I like you Eragon… possibly a little more than I should. I have grown used to this company, but most of all… to you. I am not stupid. I know that when we reach the Varden, we will be seperated. You will be recognised and treated as the hero you are and will be.

There will be no room for Murtagh, Lia or myself. I just… I don't want to learn anymore about you or grow more attached. It will not be easy for me when tomorrow comes. I don't want to make it any harder than necessary"

"You think I will rise up a rank and forget those who have helped me and befriended me this far?!"

"No. You won't have time for us and so you shouldn't. More important things lie ahead of you than visiting your friends of old"

"Ella…"

"Yes…"

"Regardless of what you say, I will come and see you"

"Eragon…"

"No. You have said enough and you are tired. Please. Sleep and let us not discuss this any further"

"But…"

Wanting to protest, she turned to face him. They had been sat side by side. Eragon, affected by her words ceased to think rationally. All he knew was that the girl he liked seemed to like him back. This was not an experience he had ever had. He was not about to let it pass due to his Rider duties. Saviour or no, he was still a young man and he still had a right to at least try and enjoy some of the more normal aspects of life. Too nervous to think about what he was going to do, he just did it. She was going to find some way to talk him out of seeing her. He didn't let her. With the speed of an extremely shy little boy, he pecked her once on the lips. Her eyes went wide, but she said nothing.

Guessing that her next expression would be one of utter horror, he quickly retreated to Saphira's side, uttered a quiet "Goodnight" and clamped his eyelids shut. It was ridiculous. Tomorrow he would meet the leader of the Varden and here he was, more apprehensive towards Ella's reaction when he next woke. His reasons for worry were so bizarre. He pretended he hadn't just kissed a girl… badly.

Ella felt like she hadn't moved for an age. The Rider had just kissed her. The panic nearly caused her heart to stop beating. What had she done? What had she said? What had she implied? She had felt a connection to him ever since their early days as captives. She was very attached to him and despite being slightly younger than him, felt a sense of responsibility towards him. But to like him in _that_ way? She suspected that he might have liked her in a different way. But to have it confirmed so boldly?! How could she tell him that she only saw him as a friend? She lay down, feeling mortified. How had such a good evening ended so tragically?

Murtagh spent the whole five minutes testing his acting skills to the limit. It took every muscle in his body to stop his hand from forming a fist and to stop the fist from being wedged into his mouth, which was itching to open invitingly. He regretted that Lia wasn't conscious enough to appreciate the hilarity. Then again, if she had been aware of the situation, he was certain that his self-control would have slipped dramatically. He found the Rider's actions hilarious. He felt embarrassed on Ella's behalf. Things would be awkward when they next woke. In the meantime, he waited for the signs that they were truly asleep. The sound of their breathing grew slow and deep. It took less time than he hoped. But just to be sure, he waited for as long as he could manage. Based on his natural impatience and the excitement brimming over, he managed a further ten minutes. Then it was time.

He opened one eye and took in the sleeping bodies, in various, entertaining poses. Ella was the only one who slept normally. Saphira's snoring was a deep rumble that reverberated at the back of her throat. Each snore resembling the rolling thunder of an approaching storm. Eragon's face was a picture worth storing in his memory. His mouth hung open at an angle. His face was pressed against Saphira's scaly hide. He made a snorting noise and drooled a little on his dragon. This night was just getting better and better.

On his hands and knees he crawled over to where Lia lay. He knew better than to try and wake her from wherever she was by any physical method. Her hand was already concealed under he rolled up cloak, clutching her knife at the ready. He pulsed his thoughts and emotions her way.

Lia! 

From somewhere, her voice replied with a distant sound.

_What is it?_

_Wake up_

Her eyes opened and there he was, practically crouching over her with a mischievous smile that was difficult not to return. His unexplainable excitement rolled off him and hit her with such a force that she couldn't help but share the feeling. Although why he was so excited still remained to be seen.

_Where are we going?_

_You'll see…_

Making no attempt to move, he bent down and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her up with him. Her knife stayed in the other hand.

_You won't need that_

_Won't I?_

_Unless you think you need one of those to fight me off?_

The knife slipped to the ground in response. He took one look at the stars, discerned which was East and started pulling Lia along by his side. She shook him off and followed on her own accord. They walked for what felt like one hundred paces and then stopped on the edge of a clearing. In the middle of the clearing was a lake, brightly lit by the moon. The water was still and welcoming. Seeing the expanse of water, Lia's enthusiasm matched Murtagh's own. This surely was a worthy prize. He grinned at her and cocked his eyebrows suggestively.

"Well... what are we waiting for?"

He hurried to take off his boots, next went his tunic and then, he was pushing down his trousers. Lia's whole body went rigid and she turned her head to the side, a stony expression on her face. The noise of his clothing falling to the floor did not stop until she was sure that he was completely naked. Seeing the white blur from the corner of her eye go hurtling towards the water, her suspicions were confirmed. There was a splash and then a whoop as his head broke though the water. He laughed like a child and stood facing her. The water was shallow here. Thankfully not too shallow that she had to worry about seeing anything that she shouldn't.

"_Why_ are you still dressed?!" he asked, confused

Scowling, she wondered how he had ever thought he would get away with this. Was this the "prize" he had been planning all along? She turned her back on him and muttered over her shoulder.

"Enjoy your swim Murtagh…"

"Wait!"

"_Why_?"

"What is the _matter_ with you?! Are you... are you…my _goodness_... are you _shy_?!"

At his assumption, he laughed heartily. Her cheeks flushed. It was becoming an annoyingly regular occurrence these days.

"So what's keeping you?" A definite teasing tone designed to mock her crept into his voice.

Glaring up at the sky, she contemplated her course of action. She could walk away. Leave him and make her point, or she could stay. Perhaps she was imagining excuses. Maybe his intentions were innocent. _Bah_! This _was_ Murtagh. It was unlikely, but still, perhaps she could meet him in the middle, so to speak.

Facing him with folded arms and a business like tone and expression, she kept her eyes focused on his face. Too frightened to blink in case she accidentally refocused on something else. He could feel her discomfort. Would he make things a little easier for her? What a silly thought. She dared him with her eyes. The challenge was accepted. With a grin that threatened to split his face, he waded forwards until there was nothing left to hide, apart from his knees. Lia pursed her lips. He shrugged and folded his arms, copying her disapproving stance.

"Give me _one_ good reason why I should join you?"

"_Really_ woman! We were born this way. Where is the shame?"

"…_One_ good reason Murtagh"

"Fine. You want _one_ reason? Try living with _this_. Right now, at this very moment, I am smelling _soooo _much better than you"

Slyly, she bent her head and sniffed herself. There was no arguing with his statement. She smelled disgusting. With a wrinkled nose and a stubborn expression she dropped her stance and threw her arms in the air.

"_Fine_!"

"_Good_…now undress"

"Aren't you going to turn around?!" 

"No" he said with a wide grin

"_Fine…_"

She turned her back on him for the last time and reached for the bottom of her tunic. There was a moment of hesitation. It seemed ludicrous that she felt so opposed to undressing in front of him. In the past she had dropped her clothes for complete strangers when her need arose. So why was this so difficult? They were friends. No. They were much more than that. But he made a fair point. Nudity was a natural part of life and the bathing would be more much effective without clothes. A small factor that she had not accounted for came to her attention. She smiled deviously and pulled her tunic up and over her head.

With a satisfied look, Murtagh watched Lia; defeated by his reasoning, begin to undress. This was not the prize he had in mind. The thought of them swimming around naked didn't bother him in the slightest, however the look on her face was a bonus and he was entitled to enjoy the moment if he wished. Her tunic was rising slowly. The bare skin of her back seemed to glow. Regardless of how much he pretended that he didn't really care, something inside him stirred at the sight of her bare flesh. Mentally slapping himself around the face, he stopped any inappropriate thoughts from entering his head. Next her trousers came down. This time his control was harder to master. He could see that she was about to face him. Stepping backwards, he let the water conceal his body from his waist down. He could control his facial reactions. Other parts remained out of his control. She stared to turn. He held his breath.

Lia felt like a cold, heartless female. And she was enjoying it. Even with her back turned, she could feel his eyes on her. Sense his pleasure that he was trying so desperately to suppress. Deliberately and slowly, she removed all her garb. Now, for the moment she had been waiting for. As she turned around, she swept her hair over her shoulders and hung her head low. Since their time together, her hair had grown. Whilst it once used to hang at her waist, it now trailed just past her backside. When she faced him once more, the blessed veil that was her hair concealed all the more "private" parts of her body. Entering the water at an angle, she kept her modesty. The thought made her want to laugh. Why she cared about it now, she had no idea? It wasn't as if there was any virtue left to preserve. Still, why should she make it so easy for him to see her this way? He was not her choice. If he had been, she would have bedded him a long time go. No. She would swim, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her like this, if the reasoning were not for the obvious. And as far as she was concerned, that was her decision to make.

Was he thankful or annoyed? Murtagh had trouble deciding which reaction was greater. He finally admitted that he supposed he was thankful. It was one thing to see a fellow companion in the nude. When the companion was a female, it probably crossed some invisible line. These were all guesses! How was he supposed to know the rules of friendships when Lia was his first?! His knowledge of wars, survival and even politics was more than impressive. His knowledge of people skills and social interaction were limited in comparison. He had always known how to get what he wanted. That had always seemed enough. Suddenly wary of what they were doing, he swam back a little. Yes, he imagined he was grateful that she had the sense to do what she had done. Even so, there was no denying that the very male part of him protested enormously in regards to his restricted view. Ignoring that part of his mind, he watched as she swam towards him. Only her neck and shoulders were in view. Her hair trailed out behind her like a long, black cloak. There was something artistically beautiful about the way she looked just then. As the thought crossed his mind, he grimaced, noting that it was not the most masculine of thoughts. To make up for the shameful moment, he decided to try his luck discerning any intimate shapes beneath her. The only thing he could see on the surface of the water was the reflection of the moon in the sky.

She swam towards him, until there was a gap to big enough to lie a fully-grown man between them. Whether they noticed their movements or not, they began to circle each other warily, never taking their eyes off the other. They were suddenly extremely aware that they were both minus all clothing and the only thing that separated them was a short distance and a splash of water.

"_So…_" Murtagh said, conversationally

"_So..._" Lia agreed

Their serious expressions lasted a whole five seconds before they burst into a fit of laughter. They stopped swimming and focused on treading water whilst they tried to stop laughing. It was difficult. It was too funny. Between the both of them, they could only guess it was their embarrassment. Shocking as it seemed, they were actually shy. The sudden experience of this new emotion was hilarious in itself. They were so backwards. At this point in their personal and business relationships, they were suddenly shy?! After everything that they had been through, in comparison, their current whereabouts and condition seemed mild. When their laughter subsided, their grins remained intact. Murtagh eyed the length of the lake. It was not as long as the last they had swam in.

"Do you feel like a challenge?"

"Against you Murtagh? It will not be much of one"

"A race?"

"Go on..."

"To the edge of the lake and back"

"No prizes involved, I hope?"

"What else could I possibly wish for other than your desirable company?" he asked innocently

"What about what _I_ wish for?" she demanded, not appreciating his belief that _he_ was the better swimmer

"Why don't you tell me what you _want_ and maybe we can... _negotiate_?"

He moved forward. She moved back. Wagging a finger at him, she grinned.

"I'm thinking about what I want. Then, when I reach the finish line first, my head will be clearer and I will let you know"

"Suit yourself"

"I will"

"Are you ready to lose?"

"Are _you_?"

They lined up, facing the opposite bank of the river. They did a mental count to three and then they were in action, front crawling as fast as they could. Their figures and movement cut a frothy line in the water behind them as they swam. They were head to head. Naturally, whenever one began to pass the other, the other would put on a fresh burst of speed and overtake. Their muscles and lungs burned from this change in their regular exercise, but they were jubilant. The unfamiliar pain encouraged them to work harder and faster and push their bodies to their limits. They reached the opposite back at the same time. Now the real race began.

Eragon rolled over, waking for the umpteenth time during the night. He had managed to turn their last relaxing night into a complete disaster. He was beginning to accept his bad luck. No body else had a natural knack for disaster. It was getting past humiliating. It was depressing. Giving up on sleep entirely, he opened his eyes. Murtagh and Lia were gone. Doing something useful and constructive no doubt. Damn their flawlessness! A glance at Ella caused him instant regret. Flustered and self-conscious, he got up and decided that a walk was in order. He wouldn't go far. Just far enough to clear his head. Treading as quietly as he could, his bad luck caught up with him and he stepped on a dry branch. If the loud crack wasn't loud enough, he stumbled forward several paces, before managing to right himself. He had made enough noise to wake a flock of birds sleeping in the trees above him. Poor, exhausted Saphira did not show any sign of movement, apart from her deep breathing. The elf was, as always, unconscious. But Ella was sat upright and staring directly at him. Unable to think of anything else to do, he smiled sheepishly. Ambling towards him, she examined his face. Her expression was almost as nervous as his was. He took some comfort in that.

"Where are you going?" she whispered

He had to take a moment to give her an unbelieving look. Wondering why she had bothered to whisper, where the only sleeping being was a dragon that wouldn't wake if an army of Galbatorix's finest came running past.

"Just for a walk…would you care to join me?"

His hand shot out in invitation before he could stop himself. It hovered in the air for a brief second before dropping to his side. What was he thinking? She wouldn't accept his hand after he had kissed her like that.

The look on his face was heartbreaking. Ella would not take his hand. The action would now be regarded as too intimate and she did not want to send the wrong signals. But he was sill her friend. Something she had not had in a long time and he was special to her. More so than he could imagine. He certainly meant more to her than someone who simply took her fancy. She slung a friendly arm around his shoulders, he gave her a weak smile and slipped a clumsy arm around her waist. She dazzled him with a bright smile.

"Lead the way Rider" she encouraged

"I... I didn't really know where I was going," he admitted, feeling stupider by the minute.

"Why don't we follow our feet?" she suggested, with what he suspected was a forced cheerfulness.

"Alright..." he mumbled in agreement and they disappeared into the forest.

The finish line was reached. It wasn't much of a finish line. It was their previous position, marked by being in line with one single tree that was taller than the rest. Panting slightly, they stopped swimming. Murtagh, too tired to tread water for the moment, decided that he was also too exhausted to care anymore. He about-faced and floated on his back. Briskly turning away, Lia indulged in the similar form of rest. They ended up floating with their heads side by side, but bodies pointed in away from each other. It was one was of enjoying the rest whilst maintaining some form of privacy. Their breathing slowly returned to normal and Murtagh slyly turned his head to the water, sucked up a mouthful and projected it into Lia's unsuspecting face. She did not react for a few seconds. He almost regretted it, when she tilted her head backwards and her eyes flitted to the rest of his body.

"_Cold _are we? Or is it always that _small_?" she asked, a touch of venom to her voice.

Defensively, he returned to treading water. She lowered her body back under before he could make an unkind comment of his own.

"_You're_ just a sore loser!" he pointed out

"What makes you think that _I'm_ the loser?"

"The fact that _I_ won?"

"You did _not_ win"

"I most definitely _did_"

"_How_?!"

"It was by a fraction, I must admit"

"It was a _tie_ at the least"

"A _tie_ my _arse_!"

"Well how are we going to decide who's right and who's wrong?" 

"A tiebreaker challenge?"

"Murtagh…"

"What?"

"Why are we doing this?"

"Because there is nothing in this world quite like a good dose of healthy competition?"

"Really? Because _I am_ under the distinct impression that you are incapable of admitted _defeat_?"

"What are you suggesting my lady?"

"That some people do not know when to give up?" 

"I'm keeping my eyes on the prize"

"Figuratively or _literally_?"

"Why Lia... am I making you… _uncomfortable_?" 

"_No_" she lied

"Then why are you backing away?" 

She hadn't even realised she had been doing so. It was an unconscious decision her body had made. Swimming as close as she dared, she stopped when her leg touched his. He froze. She smirked. Who was the uncomfortable one _now_?

"Must all your prizes end with nudity?" she asked with a painfully bored expression.

"But they are the _best_ kind!" he argued with a playful smile

"Is this how the majority of women end up in your bed? Because they _lose_," she asked, amused

"No!" he protested, utterly offended 

"That was a _very_ quick response Murtagh. Are you _quite _sure?" she teased

"I have my looks and charm woman!" 

"_Where_?" Lia glanced around in mock curiosity. He splashed her. She laughed.

"You are the great exception my lady. Obviously your mind and sight are flawed"

"_Clearly_" she agreed sarcastically

"Seriously though…"

"Seriously what?"

"_Why_?!"

"Oh Murtagh. _Please_. This desperation is very unfitting"

"Enough. We are alone. Just you and I. _Tell me_. Why are you not affected by me the way other women are?"

"I do not know how to answer your question"

"_Try_"

She had his full attention. He did not look hurt or ashamed. He was curious and honestly couldn't understand why she felt the way that she did.

"Well, it's difficult for me to say because I have never really chosen men for their level of attraction. They just served their purpose and then I would leave"

Her tone was so matter of fact and honest that Murtagh fought to choke back a laugh. Her attitude was so thoroughly…_male_.

"My _word_ Lia. Are you _sure_ you are a woman?"

"Last time I checked" she replied with a wry smile

"Do you _have_ no standards?"

"Murtagh... it is not what they look like... it is what they _have_"

"Is their age not an issue in the least?!" "It depends on my need" 

"Truly Lia. You are a _strange_ creature"

"Is it really so strange? It is one of the most basic animal needs. When it comes, I satisfy it and my work is done"

"What about enjoyment? Surely a man more pleasing to the eye would be worth the wait?"

"That is the difference between you and I. For you, it is a _sport_. For me, it I a _chore_. Although I shall not deny that given the choice, I am of course more inclined to chose the more attractive of the two"

"I am curious… How do you entice these men?"

"Oh please! Men are not exactly difficult to win over. Women? We are a _different_ story"

"You have not yet answered my question! What is it about _me_ that you find so repellent?"

"I never said that"

"You _implied_ it. You also do not believe that I have a certain _way _with women"

"Admittedly, after Gil' Ead, I was forced to accept that you have _some_ skills worth commending"

"If you were on the receiving end of my charm, you would be a babbling _idiot_"

"You think so?"

"I _know_ so"

"Alright... say something... _charm_ me"

Lia stared at him expectantly, waiting for the miracle to happen. Murtagh didn't seem to appreciate the tense atmosphere in which he was working, but he did the best with what he had. He bent his head down low and assumed a serious and yet dreamy expression. As he raised his head, his eyes burned into hers with all the fiery passion he could hold behind them. In an enchanting and deep voice, he spoke the few words that would prove him right.

"_You are so beautiful…_"

He held her gaze and she found it irritatingly difficult to turn away. Inwardly she found herself cursing his dark and dangerous eyes for being so mesmerising. Thinking that he had her, he reached out a hand to touch her face. The finishing move. He stroked her cheek and saw that she did not resist. Testing his luck, he closed the small distance between them and leaned his head down to hers. His face was a few inches away, when he saw her smiling eyes and felt the swing of her punch smack him across the jaw. He groaned and she shook her head pitifully. He at least had the decency not to complain.

"Honestly Murtagh! That line actually _works_?!"

"All the time" he said cheerfully, despite his throbbing face

"That is the _single_ most _depressing_ thing I have ever heard. You have single handily _destroyed_ my faith in women kind"

"It was my pleasure" he bowed his head

"Well there must be some saving grace you have. Something I am completely missing, because women cannot be _that_ easily swayed"

"Oh, so you think only _women_ can bend others to their will?"

"For the most part"

"And you think that telling a woman she is beautiful is lame?"

"_Painfully_ so"

"But _all _women _love_ to hear it"

"_Pah_!" was her only reply.

A truth hit him and he scrutinised her face.

"No one has ever told you that...have they?"

His look was bordering on pity. She shook her hair away from her eyes and sighed dramatically.

"_Yes_. No one has _ever_ told me I am beautiful and I am all torn up on the inside because of it"

Draping a hand across her brow, she fluttered her lids, before snarling back at him.

"Do I _look_ like the kind of girl who seeks _compliments_? I have _better_ things to do with my time that feel _desirable_"

"_No._ You _do not_ look the type. But there _is_ something about you Lia. You are without a doubt, _uniquely_ _desirable_"

Moaning in aggravation she shoved him hard in the chest and he laughed, enjoying the hot flush that he felt through their bond. She certainly _did_ have issues with positive compliments that did not relate to her more practical skills. This was a side to her he had never seen. She was annoyed. From beneath her warrior exterior, a glimpse of the girl she may have been was beginning to show. Every second of her vulnerability was causing her distress. She didn't like that he had helped this part of her to surface. Strangely, he found her behaviour almost endearing, punches and all.

"_Ugh_! _Please_! Just _stop_!"

"_Why_?" he laughed

"_Because_. You are under _no_ obligation to kiss my arse Murtagh. I know what I am and what I look like. I do _not_ need any reassurance from _you_. No boost to my self esteem. Nothing!"

"So what offends you more? The fact that I stated that you have looks or is it just because the comment came from _me_?"

"_Both_!"

"That is _stupid_"

"_No_. It _isn't_. All that joking in Gil' Ead?! You made it _clear_ that I was _beneath_ your high standards"

"And you took me _seriously_?!"

"I _punched_ you didn't I?"

"You punch me _excessively_. It is difficulty to keep track of occasions _and_ reasons"

"What were we even talking about before this conversation came out of no where?! What has this conversation got to do with _anything_?"

"Absolutely nothing"

"Then _why_ are we still having it?!"

"Lia…"

"What?!"

"Do you find _me_ attractive?"

"_What_?!?"

"You say you are oblivious to my _charm_, but do you find me attractive in any _other _way?"

"_Why_ is this so important?"

"I am just _curious_…"

Swimming towards her, she swam backwards, until the water was shallow enough for her toes to touch the bed of the lake. He continued advancing towards her. She contemplated taking another swing at him, but didn't quite trust herself to get closer to him whilst his eyes held that look. It was a look she had never seen before. He was grinning, that was nothing new, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested something... _else_?

"Am I attractive to you right _now_?" he asked.

She took in his wet hair. The way it hung across his eyes and his inviting smile. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to keep her expression impassive.

"Very well…how about … _now_?"

Being that much taller, he took a few steps and whilst she remained with her neck just above water level, his torso burst through the water, his muscled chest and abdominal muscles in line with her eyes. The water dripped off his skin and he stood, glistening before her. Ogling at him, she was suddenly aware of a burning sensation beginning to throb and course through her body. Her fingertips began to tingle. Something was happening to her insides. There was a fire screaming inside her and it called for him to put it out. Her eyes widened in horror as she felt the "need" let itself be known. It was too late. He was standing opposite her and, even without their link, one look at her would have been enough to read her mind.

"_No_…" she practically whimpered. But she couldn't move. Whilst her brain was yelling at her to run away, her body was resisting. Helplessly, she watched as he closed the gap between them in three, slow strides.

Murtagh was adamant in his task. He wanted her to admit that she was attracted to him. He had remembered the way she had stared at him at the lake a long time ago. The staring he was prepared for. The sudden, intense desire that immediately followed took him by surprise. He recognised it from before. From that night where she dreamed a dream of which she would never speak. And now, she was awake. The desire was real and it was directed towards _him_. Her expression and stance were conflicting. Her face told him that she was scared. But she didn't move. What was he meant to do? He was indecisive. Should he back away and joke lightly about something unrelated? Or should he go to her? It was impossible to decide which course of action was the right one to take. It didn't help that at the sudden reception of her feelings, his own desire was flared. Well. She may have looked worried, but she wasn't running away and she was perfectly able to stop him. What was the worst that could happen? She would punch him? Again? Maybe. And then he would know that she meant her refusal. Because at that moment in time, the "no" sounded more like it was meant to be a _yes_. Oh she meant it. The no. But she wanted it anyway. Him. A part of him wanted her too. A very big part. He stepped forward. She still didn't move, but she began to tremble. He took another step and at his third he was directly in front of her. She had lowered her head, having her hair cover her face. He arms were wrapped tightly around her chest to stop the shaking. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out.

Lia fought against herself so hard, but she was failing and there was nothing she could do about it. Why was she so scared? Why?! Her need was great and it was all too clear that Murtagh would help her feed it all too eagerly. So why did she feel this way? She knew why. But it did not make sense. It was because of how close they were. It was about what they _had_ and what they _were_. This act was something that she saved for the barest of strangers. To be intimate with someone that she knew and was already intimate with on so many other levels was new to her. The thought of seeing his face afterwards?! She had _never_ seen anyone's face afterwards?! What if he wanted to do it _again_?! What if she _let_ him?! Why was the idea both terrifying and appealing at the same time? And why could she not fight this _stupid_ need?! It should be _easy_, but it wasn't going to happen. Her physical need was too great and there was a need that she didn't understand that accompanied it. A need that he voiced seconds after she thought it.

"Would it be so _bad_? … After all… we _have_ done everything else imaginable together_?"_

His fingers brushed her hair behind her shoulders and he took her face in his hands. With his thumb, he parted her lips that would have remained clenched together otherwise. He traced their outline and bent his head until his eyes were on the same level as her own.

"_This is wrong_..." she protested weakly

"_Why_?"

"It… it _just_…"

"Give me a reason"

Her mind filled with several thousand reasons, but for all her mentally complied lists; she couldn't utter a word and only stared as his lips moved towards hers. Her shivering stopped. The fear slipped away and she found herself damning the consequences of her non-existent protest. She tiled her head up and ran her tongue over her lower lip. _So much for self-control_. That was the last thought she had, before she welcomed the reckless fulfilment of her need.

Both Eragon and Ella could now see the edge of the forest and a clearing was visible ahead. They could just about make out the outline of a lake.

"Did Lia mention anything to you about a lake?" Eragon asked

"No. But it looks as good a place as any to sit and think"

They crunched noisily to the forest's edge.

Their lips were about to touch, when a sound made them jump back from each other and stare towards the bank. Someone was coming, more than one person, by the sound of it. There were only two other someones that could possibly be out here. The mood was broken. The familiar troublesome situation brought a conspiratorial and excited tone to their hushed voices. They felt at home in this moment. Murtagh hunkered down until his head was all that stuck out from the water.

"How do you feel about that tie breaker challenge right _now_?"

"Who can stay under the longest?"

"The _prize_?" he asked with inappropriate excitement, considering how close they were to being seen.

"Anything… _within reason_" she added with a stern look

"I _will_ take you up on that" he grinned warningly

"Do not hold your breath" 

"Oh I _fully_ intend to"

Wasting no more time, they each took several long, deep breaths before the sound grew nearer and with a nod, they both disappeared beneath the surface of the lake. As soon as they were underwater, they blinked at each other. Lia collected her hair and twisted it around her arm, stopping it from floating to the surface. Murtagh's lips were curved into a huge smile. His eyes were bulging every so slightly, he looked as if he were going to explode in a fit of laughter. The smallest of bubbles escaped his mouth as he stopped himself. Frowning at him, she wondered what was so funny. This wasn't just some contest. They were actually hiding from people!

_What are you laughing at?!_

_Hmmm… I guess we have no more secrets between us…_

_What are you…_

She looked down, only to see that the water was crystal clear. The moonlight shining light on everything. _Everything_. In full view of each other, he let his head drop to the side and he gave her a once over. It probably wasn't his first, she thought. It was too late to be remotely embarrassed. He was right. There was nothing left to hide. Instead of turning red, she waited for whatever comment he would undoubtedly make. He nodded his head in appreciation.

_Not bad my lady… not bad at all!_

Shrugging modestly, she decided that she might as well see how he liked to be stared at like some perverse trophy on display. Her eyes automatically dropped down and stayed there. She stared until she could feel his paranoia seep into the back of her mind. Satisfied that he was dying to know her answer, she gave him a derisive smile.

_Well... I do not think this interruption made me miss much... it looks like it would have been a short ride…_

His face turned scarlet and he exhaled the rest of the air in his lungs. Dropping like a stone, he landed on the bed, crossed his legs, folded his arms and glared up at her. His reaction was so childish, she laughed. Several large bubbles floated to the surface. He rose to his feet and clamped a hand across her mouth. They both watched the bubbles reach the surface and hoped that they went unnoticed. Their close proximity was forgotten as they waited. Their lungs were already beginning to strain.

Ella sat down on the grassy bank. Eragon sat, spread legged beside her. He paid great attention to his feet. The silence had dragged out for as long as it could. He had to speak. It could not wait until the morning and he doubted that he could sleep unless he resolved the situation. He would have to look at her when he spoke. He needed to see her reaction, whether good or bad. Her arm was still around his shoulders. It was comforting. No body had shown him this degree of affection since Roran. Thinking of Roran did nothing to calm his nerves. Images from his nightmares flashed in the back of his mind. He pushed them away. This was more important right now. She was already looking at him when he turned to her. Her face was open and friendly.

"I am _so sorry_"

Her eyes dropped a moment and she nodded, accepting his apology. Squeezing his shoulder gently, she dropped her gaze , looking shamefaced.

"I'm sorry too. I feel like I have misled you into thinking something that... _isn't_?"

"Do not be sorry. I was seeing things that weren't there because I _wanted_ to. It was stupid and now I have embarrassed the _both_ of us"

"Oh Eragon. I know you say and do the _daftest_ things, but it will take more than a _little kiss_ to make me run for the hills"

"Really?"

"Yes! You want to be worried about something? Worry about the line of girls that will be chasing you when you reach the Varden!"

"I _doubt_ it" he sniffed

"Look! _Don't_ you go making me feel bad! _Alright_?"

Taken aback by her serious tone, he stiffened in her grasp. She shook her head and eyed him critically.

"Just because _I _don't want to be romantically involved with you doesn't mean that I _don't_ think you're a handsome one. You _are_. If you were an _ugly_ bastard I would have let you leave me in my cell to rot"

Laughing at her own statement, she dropped her arm from his shoulders and hugged her knees to her chest. He was smiling now. He did have a brilliant smile, when he wasn't busy looking concerned, depressed or annoyed.

"You certainly know how to make a man feel special Ella," he said with a grin

"_Man_?!" she giggled at his use of the word.

The hurt look that passed his face caused her to sober up, but not entirely. Patting the top of his head, she winked at him and crooned "Of _course_ you are", before turning her head to hide her smirk. Facing this new direction, she noticed something dark further along the grass. She squinted hard until she cold make out the shape. It took her several guesses, before she realised that it was a pile of clothes. She whipped her head around to voice her suspicions to Eragon, when she caught sight of a movement on the otherwise still lake. Several large bubbles broke the surface of the water. She stopped. She thought. Murtagh and Lia were absent from her camp. She did the math and her mouth fell open in surprise.

"_Oh_!" she accidentally uttered aloud.

"What is it?" Eragon asked, sounding a little nervous.

She glanced at his face and suspected that he felt unsafe without his protectors. How funny that it was _them_ causing her to bring out his fear. The way she saw it, she could either lure him back to the camp, or stay sitting here and see how long their nude comrades could hold their breath. It would be a priceless moment to witness all their expressions when they were aware of each other. It all depended on how mean she was feeling. It was very tempting. But Lia's friendship meant too much to her and she had already upset the Rider enough for one night. Her work here was done. Standing up, she tugged on Eragon's sleeve and gestured to the forest.

"Come now Rider. All is well. Let us rest"

"You're right… thank you"

"You are most welcome"

Walking back between the trees, Ella felt a rush of excitement. She had done a good deed. She gained a sense of pride from defending her colleague's secret. The question remained, should she let them know that she knew? For now, she would keep it to herself.

Their lungs were now screaming for air. The burn was too great. Lia glanced at Murtagh. His face was set with concentration, but his eyes were beginning to twitch. She had held on for as long as she could. As much as she would have loved to win this little game, she was not prepared to die for it. Kicking with her feet, she broke the surface of the water and gasped for air. Murtagh followed shortly after. A quick scan of the area showed that they were alone.

"Playtime is _over_" she stated meaningfully, before swimming back to the bank.

Murtagh followed obediently. When they were on dry land, they dressed. There was no more standing back to back. They acted as if it were normal, as if this were a regular occurrence. Despite their calm and collected behaviour, they stole surreptitious glances at each other when they were sure the other wasn't looking. Of course this exercise was thoroughly pointless. As soon as one thought it, the other knew. But it was nice to pretend.

When they were fully dressed, Lia squeezed out he excess water from her hair. Murtagh rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, impatiently. Although his face showed nothing but a slight smile.

"What are you smiling at?" Lia asked warily

"I believe that _I_ am the winner"

"_Yes_.." Lia agreed grudgingly

"Then I am ready to make a claim on my prize" 

"…_Being_?" she asked cautiously

"You said _anything within reason_… if I recall?"

"You recall correctly…what did you have in _mind_?"

"Don't worry. I think it is _acceptable_, considering your _terms_" 

Before she could reply, he strode forward, took her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers. Caught by surprise, she pushed her hands against his chest, only then to have them winding around his neck as she kissed him back uncontrollably. Their kiss was not sweet, small, light or shy in any sense of the words. It was hard, firm and hungry. It was also long. Neither quite willing to stop. Only when self-control became unbearably hard did they break away, in unison, of course. With their breathing coming in large gasps, they stared at each other, stunned. Turning their backs to each other, they eased their breathing and tried to regain their focus. It was hard. The kiss had been mind altering. Lia was the first to pull herself together. She smoothed out her tunic and faced him with an easy smile.

Murtagh took a while longer to compose himself. He felt like his brain was about to explode. He thought of every mundane thing in the world, until he was sure that he could look at her without pouncing. He could do it. They could do it. They were professionals after all. Sensing her calm, it was easier to regain his own. When he turned though, he couldn't help but wear his usual cocky smile. Scratching the back of his head for the sake of some form of movement, he let out a long whistle. She laughed at that and rolled her eyes. He started walking and she fell in line with his stride. He felt he should say something. Anything.

"That was… _different_?"

There were so many other words he could have used to describe the moment, but this seemed the softest and least enthusiastic. He wanted to play it safe.

"_I'll_ say…" Lia agreed, unable to stop the stupid grin from spreading across her face. Rubbing at her cheeks, she tried to relax her facial muscles. They were aching from this unexplainable warm feeling that buzzed through her body. In the back of her mind, she could feel Murtagh suffering the same symptoms.

"_Of course_... it won't happen again" Murtagh stated out of the blue. Although his voice didn't quite hold the conviction the sentence deserved.

"_Of course_"

"Because _that_ would be _bad_" he continued

"_Definitely_"

"_Unless_…" he contemplated carefully, "More competitions were involved?"

They stopped and stared at each other. Lia searched his face for a sign that he was making some jest. He wasn't. He was serious. He was actually finding excuses to do it all over again. Butterflies flew around her stomach at the thought.

Murtagh was still reeling. Why? He was very experienced. He had kissed a lot of women and slept with even more and yet, what he suddenly craved was unlike anything he had ever craved before. What was _wrong_ with him? What was wrong with the _both_ of them? The purpose of the kiss was to ease the tension, not to make it _worse_?! But damn it, it felt _good_! It felt _right_. It felt like something that was _mean_t to happen between them. It was all so confusing. What did this make them? If they wanted each other in such a way and not _just_ as a _one_ off ride? Was it wise with so many existing ties between them? Did he care? He was beginning to think that he didn't. That she was in fact perfect for him. But what did she feel? It was bound to be harder for her. He didn't doubt that for a moment. Her experience with men over the years was neither pleasant nor promising. But did that play a part in the hesitation behind her eyes? The hesitation was there, but it was small and it seemed to shrink by the second.

Lia thought very carefully. This was a big decision. The first of its kind in her life. From tomorrow, they would continue to be bound to each other, but they would be alone. They would be free to go, be and _do_ whatever they wanted. Recent events and conversations had opened doors to feelings that she was unaware she was even capable of. Could she keep al her promises to him and be _involved _with him at the same time? The thought was a strange and yet exciting one. They already meant everything to each other. They were all that the other wanted and had. It was not unreasonable to complete the bond by sealing their relationship in this final way? In the oddest way, it felt completely natural. This was right. It scared her, but in a good way.

Her mind made up; she reached for the front of his tunic and pulled him down to her height. Her lips kissed his softly. His hands wrapped around her waist and drew her closer. This kiss was different to the last. It was soft and gentle. Drawing away, she rested her head against his chest and he held her tightly. With his free hand, he ran his fingers through her hair. It felt strange to share a moment such as this outside their usual extreme situations. It was for lack of a better word, nice.

"Are you any good with this type of thing?" Murtagh asked, feeling as embarrassed and unsure as she did

"Not at all" she admitted freely and with a slight laugh

"Well... on the _plus_ side... we get to be incompetent _together_"

"_Wonderful_" she exclaimed.

Holding her at arm length by the shoulders, he chewed on the inside of his cheek as he wondered how to phrase his question. When it left his lips, he was sure that it sounded all wrong and would be taken in the wrong way.

"Lia… a little help here... but I am having trouble placing exactly what... what we _are_?"

"That is really _very_ simple"

"Then what _are_ we?"

"_Complete_"

It was her final answer and he had to agree that it made more sense than any other response he had imagined.

"The other?"

"Do not need to know…"

"Things don't need to change? _Do_ they?"

"Do you _want_ them to?"

"No"

"Neither do I"

"Well... apart from _some_ things," he said with a grin, as he dove in for another kiss.

Side stepping him, she twisted his arm behind his back and hooked her leg behind his, sending him to the floor. Staring down at him, she smirked.

"And there will be always be _some_ things that will _never_ change"

Grabbing her foot, he pulled sharply and she landed on top of him. Their heads smacked together, making them groan in pain. They laughed and she tried to move. He held her firmly in place and she gave up trying. Touching the numerous scars and marks on his face, she clucked her tongue in disapproval. He snickered.

"I do not know why _you_ are complaining! Most of these are courtesy of _you_!"

"You know what they say. The harder you hit someone, the more you like them"

He ran his hand over the stitches on her forehead and pulled an apologetic face.

"You win for quantity, but I believe I take the prize for quality"

"First prize?" she mused " And I wonder what _that_ would be?"

"I think I just got it. Unless... you are feeling _overly generous_ this evening…"

Tugging at the edge of her tunic suggestively, he gave her a semi- hopeful look. She smacked his hands away and sat herself on his lap. He sat himself up, but kept his hands to himself.

"I do not know what you take me for Murtagh? I am _not _that kind of girl"

"Yes you _bloody well are_!" he chuckled

"Maybe I _used_ to be. But not anymore"

"I guess _this_ is what I get for convincing you to bide your _time_"

"I am nothing but an excellent student" she chirped

"_So… when_?" he asked in a low voice, pulling her closer to him.

He kissed her lips once and then moved his seductive kisses along her jaw and down the length of her neck. He made it _very_ difficult to refuse. But she was determined to do this properly. Whatever that meant. When his lips reached her shoulder, she pushed him away. Crawling out of his lap, she stood up.

"_Tomorrow_" she grinned, before adding "_You_ had better rest. Save your strength because you are going to _need_ it"

Springing to his feet, he looked to the skies with a dreamy expression, before grinning back at her.

"First one to fall asleep and makes it to tomorrow wins"

She answered by breaking into a run. Together they ran as fast as they could, coming to a halt at the outskirts of the camp. Murtagh reached for her hand and held it tightly before letting go reluctantly.

Back to normal I guess… Not quite 

Pulling her in for a brief kiss, they smiled deviously before assuming their sleeping positions amongst the rest of their party. Sleep came easily to them that night. Tomorrow was the start of a new beginning for all of them. Each of them looked forward to it in their own way. Some more than others. Whatever the new day brought, it would be a blessing. A chance to start over. Things were about to get better.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 

Saphira's nostrils flared. Murtagh stirred in his sleep. Lia's senses went haywire. The wind that blew through the trees carried the scent. Most would not have noticed. But to those practised in the art of tracking and hunting, the smell was a strong and pungent warning. The three of their eyes opened as one. A second, testing sniff of the air confirmed their fears. Together, through their bonds, they muttered the one word in disgust.

Kull… 

They each slipped into their natural roles. There was no morning greeting. No pleasant conversation. They were three soldiers in the business of keeping others alive. Lia's head felt like it was being torn in two, as both Saphira and Murtagh bombarded her with questions and orders. Opening up her mind, the division that separated the two melted away and both the dragon and her partner were able to hear each other in the confinement of her head. No time existed to complain about how uncomfortable and strange it felt. Murtagh and Saphira spoke together, as if this were the thousandth time, as opposed to their first. They stared at each other intently.

_How far?_ Murtagh asked Saphira

_I will not know unless I take to the sky_

_We will tie the elf to you_ Lia insisted

_There is no time!_ Saphira hissed

_We cannot look after all three of them!_ Lia stated in annoyance

Saphira growled, but lay herself flat. Murtagh ran to the elf and picked her up with ease. Holding Lia's gaze, Saphira's eyes gleamed with lust for the coming, potential fight.

_Take care of them Lia. Take care of my Rider. I will try to hold them off as long as I can_

_You have my word_ Lia promised, as she busily helped Murtagh attach the elf securely to Saphira's back.

_Where shall I meet you?_ Saphira demanded

_Follow the stream to the waterfall. I will call you when your Rider is safe_

Saphira gave her Rider a longing glance, before she threw herself through the gap in the trees. As she ascended higher and higher, Murtagh shook Eragon awake, whilst Lia grabbed Ella's arm. Ella yelled in shock.

"Wh… what's wrong?!"

"We need to move. Now"

"What happened?" Eragon asked angrily, knowing that as usual, he was the last to know.

"It seems that your movements have been tracked better than we thought" Murtagh said over his shoulder

"Kull" Lia answered his unasked question

"_Kull?! Here?! How?! Is it a coincidence?! How many are there?!_"

Exasperated, Murtagh pointed to the ground and shouted each word with all the bitterness he could muster.

"_Yes Rider! Why don't we all take a seat and analyse the situation! I am sure they will stop and wait for us courteously. Because they obviously expect us to stop and waste time thinking about things!_"

"_Murtagh…_" Lia's assertive tone made him tear his eyes from the fool before him.

"_Yes?_" he said with exaggerated politeness, albeit through gritted teeth.

Stepping in between then, she used the full power of her unspoken authority.

"Pair up. Two to a horse. No one can take chances on foot. Forget about clearing our camp. If they are here it is because of us. Hiding our trail will not cover our scent"

Murtagh automatically stepped by her side. Eragon started to walk towards Ella, when he was yanked back by a powerful arm. Lia's grip was firm and her eyes left no room for argument.

"_You_ come with _me_"

"Do you not trust my ability to ride?"

"The only thing I trust right now is the inevitable way trouble always seems to find you Rider"

He could not disagree. Wordlessly, he followed her as she hopped into Snowfire's saddle. He climbed up behind her, feeling uncomfortable as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Murtagh did not need to waste such words with Ella. With a simple nod toward her, she followed him to Tornac. He took the reigns. She seated herself behind him and hesitantly circled her arms around his middle. Catching Lia's eye,he saw that all seriousness melted from her face and her true emotions seeped through. The thrill of the chase. Was it wrong that hey revelled in such moments? If anything, it made them take their tasks all the more seriously. There was no written rule that ever stated that it was wrong to find danger _fun_.

"Do you think you can keep up" she challenged him with a wicked smile

Flicking the reigns, she bolted through the trees. Eragon held all the more tighter as he watched the outline of the trees blurring past him. He had never realised how fast the horses were capable of travelling. Being in the saddle gave a different view. Being on the back seat was nauseating. Shutting his eyes tightly, he rested his head against Lia's back and trusted her entirely.

On the other hand, Ella's grip on Murtagh had loosened. She had let herself move freely with the movement of the horse. She was delighted by the feel of the wind whipping through her hair, the freedom of enjoying the ride, without the worry of controlling the animal. In comparison to Lia's discomfort, Murtagh was barely aware of Ella's presence behind him. As they rode and he saw the way that Eragon clung to Lia's back like a limpet, he decided that he was beginning to take a liking to Ella. Not to the extent where he would miss her company in the slightest, but he gave credit where it was due and she had certainly become a worthy travel companion. Leaning over the saddle, he urged Tornac to move faster. Even if he had not been guiding his old friend, the horse would have carried on following Snowfire all the same. As with himself and Lia, the horses were bonded together now. One would not leave without the other. And now, they raced past the lake and followed the zigzagging line of the stream. Nobody looked back to see if they were followed. All energy went into reaching the waterfall before the enemy.

Hovering high above the forest, Saphira could see the approaching threat. They had just entered the forest, a line of marching Kull. At a guess, she would have thought forty of them in total. Their pace was frighteningly fast. Worriedly, she turned her head behind her. In the distance, she could see her friends comfortably in the lead. _Friends_. She had always considered Lia as a friend of sorts, but time had made her appreciate all of their company and the safety they ensured her Rider. So, feeling pleased, she returned her eyes to the beasts below. She cursed the elf tied to her back. Without the delicate creature strapped to her, she may have attempted an attack, as it was, there was not yet any opportunity to slow their advance. The gaps in the trees grew smaller. Whilst they remained safe under the cover of the forest, she could not hurt them, yet. She would wait for when they were out in the open. Until that happened, she would tell Lia what she had seen. Feeling Eragon's sickness, she thought it wise to leave him be. It wouldn't do to trouble him in his delicate state. Desperate to relay the news, she groped for Lia's mind.

With Eragon's hands squeezing the life out of her, Lia welcome the distraction of Saphira's reach. Unable to slow down and confer with Murtagh, she opened her mind enough for those nearby to hear.

There are at least forty of them! 

_Forty?!_ Three voices cried out in response, including her own.

A stabbing pain erupted in the back of her head. Her mind was pushing itself harbouring more than _one_ intruder. Murtagh was the only presence that actually felt like a part of her own. Having completely forgotten about Eragon, his voice came as a surprise.

_Murtagh?_ Eragon said in surprise

_Rider?!_ Murtagh exclaimed a little in disgust

_Forty of them?_ Lia asked Saphira, ignoring the other two

_Yes. And although you are safely ahead, they are hot on your trail. When you stop. I fear you will not have long to get inside wherever the Varden lay_

_We have time enough. We will make it_

_Call me when you are ready_

_Keep up alert of their progress_

Saphira's presence left. Murtagh's presence, as always, stayed. But he was silent. Only the Rider remained inside her head. His voice was filled with suspicion.

_How…?_

_How what?_

_You can hold more than one being in your mind!_

_Is that wrong?_

_I… I never knew it was possible_

_Is it not meant to be?_

_I have never heard of it before…_

_It seemed the logical thing to do at the time_

_How did you know how to do it?_ He asked in wonderment

_I really do not know Rider. I just knew what I had to do and I did it_

Brain still throbbing, she was in no mood for this conversation. It required too much thought. Thought and energy, energy that was better used trying to get him to safety. With a touch of guilt, she found herself looking forward to leaving him. Anything to avoid whatever questions he would ask. She preferred the arrangement they had where he simply accepted her without comment. When questions referred to her past, she was more than reluctant to share the details with anyone. Well. _Almost _anyone.

Aware of her discomfort, Murtagh sent a wave of calm towards her. Abruptly, she shut Eragon out of her head. It could have been taken as rude, but she hoped that he put her behaviour down to their present mission. Her headache lessened as Murtagh took some of her pain away. She was unsure how. They shared it and between them, it did not feel so bad. He spoke to her with an edge of mockery in his voice.

_I feel thoroughly sickened!_

_Try riding with a weak stomached man squeezing the life out of you!?_

_That is not the kind of sickness I was referring to_

_Then what are you whining about?_

_You had the Rider inside your head!_

_It was not the time first time_

_Hmph…_

Throwing a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Murtagh's face contort a little in an expression she couldn't quite place, before he masked it with a quick grin. It clicked and she faced forward once more, smiling and feeling strangely satisfied.

_Jealous?… of the Rider?_

_No!…. Maybe…. Alright yes!_

_Why?!_

_Because… I did not like it... Him being there… It... it is my place… It belongs to me… and…_

_And what?_

_I do not like to share you _he stated simply

_It really bothered you that much?_

_Are you telling me that you liked him being there?!_

_Not particularly. Then again it was Eragon. What of Saphira?_

_That is different_

Hardly she scoffed 

_It is very different. Saphira is a dragon. She gave us this connection and then there is the startlingly obvious answer…_

_Being?_

Eragon is... though it pains me to admit it... another male… 

Her laugher boomed in the back of his head. He was glad that she didn't turn to see the colour of his face, that had nothing to do with the ride. Lia's laughing died down and contentment settled in. She could always trust Murtagh to lighten the mood of an otherwise life-threatening situation. Jealous of the _Rider_?! _That_ was a joke that would keep her laughing through the years!

_How would you like it?!_ Murtagh barked at her

_If another female decided to impregnate your mind?_

_How would it make you feel?_

She considered the question carefully. Her reaction to the thought was not much different to his own.

Well… I would probably have to kill her on principle alone 

At _that_, Murtagh laughed aloud, startling Ella with the sudden noise. It made him feel comfortable knowing that they both had a part of them that was fiercely territorial of the other. It was a wonderful feeling.

_But it probably would not be prudent for you to kill the one person we have struggled to keep alive for so long_

_Not even a bump? A scratch? A severed limb?_ He practically begged

_I sincerely doubt that Saphira would approve_

_Maybe she would? Just a little bit. I refuse to believe that she loves him enough to not want to dish out occasional and well-deserved beating_

_Murtagh…_

_What?_

_Look ahead of us…_

He hadn't concentrated on their surroundings. Only on following at her tail. Looking up, he saw the side of the mountain. Staring ahead, there was a narrow, rocky path that led to a waterfall. They were close. Very close. On the other side of the stream, the forest continued. That would be where they would make their escape. Soon it would be over.

_Are you ready for the rest of our lives?_

_I am looking forward to it_

_Then let us dump these two and get a move on_

_It sounds like a plan_

Driven by their need to be free, they rode all the harder. The path soon became too rocky to ride through at a fast pace. Climbing down, they walked quickly, pulling the horses behind them. Ushering Eragon and Ella ahead, Murtah and Lia cast wary glances around them, making sure that they had no unexpected company.

They reached the edge of the path. There was a small drop that led to the pool of water where the waterfall beat down. Eragon stood precariously close to the edge. Ella held onto his arm, sure that he was going to slip and fall. Lia passed Snowfire's reigns to Murtagh, leaving him in charge of the horses. She walked towards the Rider. Ella stepped aside. Eragon stared down at the water frothing below.

"Which way do we go?" he asked without turning

"You are looking at it"

His gulp was audible. Lia smiled patiently and turned him around to face her, both hands resting on his shoulders. His face was green.

"_Courage _Rider"

"The _waterfall_?"

"You need to swim _underneath_ it"

"Is it far?"

"No. The Varden lie just on the other side. All _you_ have to do is swim"

He nodded, still looking unsure. He eyed her carefully.

"You and Murtagh will not be going _first_?"

She laughed at his assumption and let go of his shoulders, placing her hands on her hips.

"Not this time Rider. _This_ time it is safer for us all if _you_ got first"

"_Me?!_"

"We could be _anybody_. They see us; they will most likely kill us where we stand. Whereas _your_ face is well know. They will recognise you and then you can account for those of us that follow"

"Will it be _that_ easy?" he said in a small voice, still unconvinced 

"Not quite _that_ easy... There is one other thing... Something you have to say…"

"What is it?"

Leaning forward, she stopped when her cheek was touching his. Into his ear, she whispered the words that would declare his presence as the Rider and confirm it. As she spoke, his eyes watched her nervously. Too afraid to speak aloud, he touched her mind. Expecting this, her mind was already open and waiting. His voice was shaken and unsure, as he unwillingly met her eyes.

_You know words in the ancient tongue?!_

_Is that what they are?_

_You do not know?_

_I was merely told to remember the phrase_

_Do you know anything else?_

Some things... Some words... Why do you ask? 

_If someone trusted you with the knowledge... If someone taught you... it... It means something Lia…You do not know what it means?_

_Is it meant to mean something?_

_I am not sure. But Lia. The ancient language is not just taught to anyone!_

_Fascinating, as this is Rider, you should be moving along now_

_I think Saphira was right about you…_

_About what?_

_In thinking you would have been a good Rider. Better than me by a long shot…_

_Eragon... It is not and never has been a responsibility I would have ever wanted... You do just fine... We have faith in you... Does that count for nothing?_

_It counts for everything_

_Then make us proud Rider_

Throughout this secret exchange, Murtagh's mouth tightened and his expression hardened. He eyed Eragon coldly and with great distaste. He was inside her mind. _Again_. He could tell by the concentration etched on their faces. What annoyed him further was that this time, he was not invited. He could hear Lia's responses clearly. Whatever Eragon said, however, remained private. Either she had forgotten to let him in or she wished their conversation to remain between the two of them. By her body language, he ascertained that his exclusion, much to his dislike, was in fact _deliberate_. He forced himself to accept that her decision must have been based on some fact that made her actions necessary. If she thought it was the most appropriate action to take, then it undoubtedly was. Simmering on the inside, he attempted to accept their exchange gracefully... by picturing him striding between them and pushing the Rider over the edge. A twisted smile crossed his lips. It would not be a problem for much longer. In minutes, they would be separated. He was possessive of her, he had been for a long while now. The previous night had only enhanced what he was beginning to think was an ever-growing obsession. His smile brightened as he realised that the thought did not bother him in the least. He had changed much this past few months. If it had brought him here, to this glorious day, it was a change he embraced. Suddenly happier, he waited patiently for her attention to once more solely be his.

"Who will jump after me" Eragon asked, eyeing the three of them

"Ella" Lia replied

"Will we leave the horses?"

"Murtagh and I will make sure that they are safe"

"And the two of you?"

"We go another way…"

Misinterpreting the meaning of her words, he simply bobbed his head once more and stepped as close to the edge as his courage would allow. He could do this. Ella would be just behind him and Muragh and Lia would enter from another point. He desperately wished that they were coming with them through the water, but they knew best, as always. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the jump.

"Be brave Rider" were Lia's final words

"Good luck Rider" Murtagh mumbled, after an encouraging look from his partner.

Eragon gave them what he hoped was a convincing smile and then he took the plunge.

Ellla did not move. She saw though the meaning of Lia's words and sorrow clutched at her heart. If anyone has been close to being a sister to her, it was the warrior that stood before her. Lia saw the realisation in the girl's eyes and looked at her carefully, but without confirming a thing.

"Take care of your self Ella… _and_ him" she added with a small smile.

Suddenly angry, Ella turned to jump. She felt betrayed. She was sure that even though Eragon would be distracted by his duties, that she would always have a place near these two unlikely companions. There was so much more she wanted to learn from her. And more than all of that, she liked her. She liked her too much to part company in such a way. Spinning on heel, she launched herself at her, hugging her fiercely. Lia held her back, squeezing her tightly, before gently pushing her away.

"_Go_… It will not be safe for you here much longer…"

"I won't forget you Lia"

"Nor I you… Now _please_… _Go_"

Turning her gaze to Murtagh, she nodded. He nodded back. She was never sure what to say to him. They had very rarely spoken and yet, at that moment, she knew that she would miss his strong silence around her and the way that he was always by Lia's side, as if he dared not leave her alone for a second. In his eyes, she saw the respect that he had for her. Moved by this small show of acceptance, she stared back at the waterfall with a new determination. She would not let them down. She would use everything that she had been taught to every advantage she could find. She would take care of the Rider in their absence. Their efforts would not be in vain. She wouldn't allow it. Stopping herself from looking at them one last time, she ran off the edge of the path and leapt into the water below.

Saphira watched as the Kull emerged from the forest and reached the lake. In less than a minute they were at the stream and on the same path that ended where the others waited. Diving down low, she hoped to startle them or scatter their tight formation. They grumbled in annoyance, but they did not flinch nor did their pace falter. Unable to do anything else in fear of the elf, she watched them, feeling useless.

_Saphira!_ Lia's voice shouted

_Lia! Is he safe?_

_As safe as he will be_

_What do I do now? Where should I go?_

_Eragon will call you when the time comes. There is a cave at the top of the waterfall. You will need to fly though the water to reach it. All you can do now is wait,_

_He is safe. That is all that matters to me. But know that the Kull will be with your soon. They are already following the stream_

We must go I shall see you on the other side 

Lia shut off her mind, not bothering to tell the dragon that they had no intention of staying. Murtagh had been excluded on this instance. Watching her, he waited for the faraway look to pass from her face.

"Saphira?"

"I told her Eragon is safe. We have company. _Soon_"

He stroked the horses' muzzles sadly.

"There is no way but across to the other side. We shall have to leave the horses"

Lia hesitated.

"Maybe not"

"I see no other way"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life"

"Then... Let me try something"

"What can you possibly do?"

"Please… stand aside…away from me… and just…trust me?"

As he moved away from the horses, he gave her a curious look. She placed a hand on the heads of horses and gently persuaded them to look upon her. Gazing into their eyes, she had their attention. Then, from somewhere deep in her memory, she found the words. She did not know where they were from or what they meant. Sometimes she had trouble remembering where she had learned them. It changed nothing, As she spoke, the horses listened. Their bodies were still. Their ears twitching in alertness.

Murtagh watched as she appeared to be simply standing there, but something was happening. The horses seemed almost hypnotised by something she was doing or saying. If she had spoken, the roar of the waterfall drowned her words out. And just like that, she stepped away, task supposedly complete, and unfastened her cloak. Dropping it to the floor, she gave him a questioning look.

"Are you ready for a swim?"

"What just happened?"

"They will follow us"

"You… you told them to _follow_ us?" he asked sceptically

"I _think_ I did?" her brow creased as she mulled over whatever she had just done "There _really_ is only _one_ way to find out"

Not waiting for him to decide whether he thought she was crazy or not, she jumped into the stream and started her swim to the other side. No sooner had she done so, both Tornac and Snowfire whinnied in distress and stumbled in after her. The current was not strong. Lia made it to the other side in a short time and crawled up the opposite bank. The horses climbed up after her, shaking them selves energetically to rid their manes of the water.

On the other side, still gaping at what he had just seen, Murtagh stared at the young woman he was about to spend the rest of his life with. A grin spread across his face. Between them, there really seemed to be _nothing_ that they could not do. Throwing his cloak away, he leapt into the water and shortly emerged beside her. The strong smell of the Kull hit them once more. They were dangerously close. Grinning at her, he posed his question in a politely interested tone.

"They say no grown man can outrun a Kull. Do you feel like _testing_ that theory?"

"You wish to _run_ instead of _ride_?"

"It is not as if the horses will not be _just_ beside us"

"It _could_ be satisfying…"

"Is that a _yes_?"

"The two of _us_ against forty of _them_? Those are the kind of odds I like. Opportunities like this do not come every day you know?"

"And _this_ is _exactly_ why you are _just_ my type of girl" he said, as he grabbed her and kissed her far more passionately that their current predicament should have allowed.

Giving into the moment, Lia wondered how long they could indulge in this pleasurable moment before making a run for it. The sound of stamping feet had them stop and grin.

"Here's to an eventful life"

"I like the sound of that"

Just like every time they had ever been cornered or about to fight, the adrenaline took over. They gave in to it. Their passion. Their need to fight and survive to see another day. Danger was their drug. With a crazed look in their eyes, they smirked at each other and ran, laughing as they did so. Never once fearing capture. Never once thinking that they wouldn't live to see another day. This was their world now and they would enjoy it. Finally they were free. Their own life risking actions were their own and the thrill was immense. For who could ever hunt them? Trouble, escape and survival was all that they knew. They were the best. It wasn't wrong to grow to need the danger and the challenge after a lifetime of having nothing less. From this moment forth, whatever they did would be whatever made them happy. They had earned it and they had each other to share and understand why they needed it so. It was an exhilarating moment. Their bodies felt dragged down by their wet clothes, and the resistance provided by that factor provided a handicap that excited them further. The extra muscle power involved caused their limbs to burn blissfully. Truly, they were in their element and nothing would get in their way.

Comforted as she was by the fact that her Rider was safe, Saphira was impatient. Wanting to be close by when he called, she soared towards the waterfall. That was when she saw the Kull crossing the stream. It appeared that they were following a new scent. Following the direction of their march, she caught sight of two familiar figures running away. Lia and Murtagh were running for their lives! Were they intercepted on their other way to the Varden? They were in trouble. That was all that she knew. They would not take them. Not after all that they had done for her and her Rider. She would not allow them to die. Forgetting that she was already burdened by one load, she tucked her wings to her side and dove downward. As she bombed towards them, she opened her large claws and aimed carefully. This could go horribly wrong if her aim was not perfect. Trying not to think of severing their fragile bodies in two, she concentrated on their position. She only had one try. She could not miss.

Caught unaware, there was no way they could have escaped Saphira's clutches. One second they were running and the next, a pair of talons hauled them up into the sky. They forgot how to speak. They forgot how to breathe. Not that they could have done either if they had tried. Saphira's grasp was like a death grip. Down below, the horses were going berserk, attempting to follow the trail of their masters on the ground below. Circling the forest, they saw the Kull appear where they had just been plucked from their run. They were approaching the top of the waterfall. They could see the shape of a large, dark cave as a shadow near the top. Saphira flew through the water with ease and landed heavily on the cave floor, not before throwing Murtagh and Lia from her claws.

Staggering to their feet, completely drenched, they ran past Saphira to the mouth of the cave. Murtagh's fists clenched at his sides as he braced himself to jump. Lia grabbed his arms and held him back.

No! It is too high! If we jump, we will kill ourselves! 

_We might survive!_

_No! We will not! Even if we do survive the fall, the Kull are there. We cannot avoid them!_

The water may carry us to safety?! 

_They have arrows and spears!_

_WE CANNOT STAY HERE!_

Saphira roared, enraged that she hadn't been thanked for saving their lives. Her large jaws shut, as Murtagh turned and pierced her with a hateful glare. Lia followed his eyes and shook her head sadly. She tried to turn Murtagh to face her, but he would not budge. His eyes were fixed on the one thing that had got in the way of their freedom.

Murtagh… She thought that she was saving us… 

His murderous glare turned to her and she flinched. Noticing her reaction, he lowered his head in shame and cradled his head in his hands.

_Lia… So you understand what is about to happen?…_

…_Yes_

…_Tell me…_

…_We are going to die…_

They stared deep into each other's eyes. How could they have been so blind as to believe that fate would allow them their freedom? It should not have hurt so much. It should have been expected. But there was no fighting the hopelessness and despair that engulfed them. There was another feeling too. That this bitter end was always meant to be theirs. There was something so disturbingly familiar about their surroundings. It felt as if they were supposed to be there. That no matter what they had chosen to do, they would have ended up here, just +like this. The thought did nothing to ease the pain of having their futures ripped away from them.

Casting a sidelong glance to the dragon, Murtagh's eyes twitched in anger. He breathed. He steadied his temper. He was doomed. There was no helping him. It was not too late for Lia.

_We do not have to die. Not the both of us. You can still get out of this alive. You can pretend you are nothing to do with me. My presence already puts the Rider in danger. If you pretend that you hate me, you can buy yourself a chance to live. I cannot lie to you. It will be a small chance all the same…_

Her jaw tightened and she glared at him.

_Are you trying to make me kill you before they have a chance?_

_No. But I daresay that a death at your hands would be far more merciful than a death at theirs_

_I will not let them touch you Murtagh_

Lia… Our pact is wasted here…It cannot save us both 

She raised a fist to strike. He saw it coming and did not move. Lia forced her hand to stay by her side. He was mildly shocked to see her curb her violent tendency in such a deserving moment.

_Murtagh… I will do everything in my power to ensure that we stay alive…To protect you… I promised and I will… And if I fail?... Well... I promised that I would never leave your side…_

_You would share my fate? Even if it means death?_

_Yes_

…_So be it… but they are going to kill us… make no mistake…_

Then let us not keep them waiting 

Lia turned to face the back of the cave; her face set with her decision. At that moment, he felt nothing except admiration towards her and an unbearable sense of gratitude. She held out her hand. He took it. Their marked palms touched and tingled gently. The feeling was ominous. It was like their connection; this power that bonded them, knew that their time was coming to an end. But standing there, hand in hand, death did not seem too terrible. Nothing had really changed in the end, they were still here, together. Looking up at him, Lia forced a smirk. He returned it. If they were going to meet their end, they would do so with dignity. As they passed her by without a glance, baffled by their wordless actions, Saphira followed them. Then, the three of them disappeared into the darkness.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 

Shivering in the cold and dark, Eragon could only rub his arms and stomp his feet as he nervously waited for Ella. Minutes had passed by and he had heard no indication that she had followed him. He told himself that he was being absurd. She had been right behind him. But there was this negative voice that played on his fears, whispering cruel lies. Lies that swore that she had ran away. Left him. That he was a whiney pest that she couldn't stand. He tried not to listen to the voice, but with the freezing cold biting at every part of his exposed skin, it was hard to concentrate on anything else to stop his chattering teeth from biting off his own tongue.

Knowing it had his attention; the voice progressed to suggestions that proved to be even worse. That Murtagh and Lia had lied to him! That now more than ever, when he needed their support and courage the most, they had _deserted_ him. If they had, wouldn't it be because they believed in him or because they were glad to be free of his incompetence? His thoughts were shattered by the sound of a large splash and a noisy gasp for air.

"Ella!" he shouted in relief

Scrambling on his hands and knees, he felt for the edge of the rocky ledge on which he had been standing. He stretched his hand out as far as it would reach. His fingers splayed, ready to grasp the first part of her that he could touch.

"Ella! Over here! Follow my voice!" he encouraged

"_Eragon?!_" her voice was filled with panic

Her hysteria was not unknown to him. Swimming beneath the waterfall had not been nearly as simple as he had been promised. There was no grudge held against Lia. She had only been instructed to remember facts. The experience was unknown to her. He had been repeatedly dragged under by the force of the crushing water, to the point where he could barely hold his breath a moment longer. Only his will had prevented him from giving in. To go through that frightening ordeal only to resurface to complete darkness was a poor reward for his courage. He had swam around in circles for what felt like a very long time, before he found a solid surface that did not present a wall, onto which he could climb. Ella had it easier, much easier. He didn't resent her for it, he was too glad to offer help where he had received none.

Continuing to call her name, he heard her splashes working their way toward him. When his hand touched hers, she grabbed at it frantically, almost pulling him in. Adjusting his weight so that he would not fall, he half dragged her to where he sat and helped haul her out of the water. Collapsing on her back beside him, she breathed in huge buckets of air and waited for the calm that did not want to surface.

"Are you alright?" Eragon asked, worried by the fact that she had not uttered a word since calling his name.

"_F…fine_" she said in a strange and raspy voice.

She did not sound fine. There was a squelching noise as she moved, sitting herself upright. He rested a hand against what he _hoped_ was her back, to steady her.

"Where to now?" she asked, expecting him to know.

He was glad she could not see the fear in his eyes. He struggled to keep his voice casual, knowing and confident. An attempt marred by his constantly chattering teeth and shaking voice.

"Well, _apparently_ we are here. We just need to keep walking"

"Walking _where_?" she asked, no doubt trying to discern some path or light which they may have used to find their bearings.

It was a wasted effort. Everything was cloaked in darkness.

"We are on a path", he replied, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about.

He commended himself on his adaptation to the situation. Ella's fear seemed to ease his own and give him the strength to sound strong, even though his worry was even greater than she could have known.

"We _are_?" she sounded dubious. He didn't blame her, but he could not stop pretending now.

Still shaking, he rose to his feet. Grabbing hold of the top of her arms, he guided her up alongside him. Only being out of the water for a shorter length of time, her shivers were crippling. He thought to offer her a hand, but changed his mind. Relief swept through him when her hand grabbed for his, her fingers gripped his tightly, the sudden warmth causing her to wrap her arms around him and press herself as close to him as possible. He froze. Despite her painful convulsions, she grinned.

"Now, _now_ Rider…I'm freezing my _arse _off and trying to keep _warm_, so can you _promise _me something?"

"Anything" he promised

"_Don't _try to kiss me" she teased

The sudden wave of heat that radiated from him at her words made her grin even more. His blush, although unseen, was evident. She expected him to draw away from her then, like the babbling, embarrassed boy he had been the night before. Instead, he closed his arms around her and held her all the more tightly. Not only did he not shy away from her; he laughed! Who was this person that her body was glued to? This person who's laughter almost sounded carefree; who seemed calm and confident under pressure? She secretly found herself wondering if there was something in the water that had brought about this surprising, yet not unwelcome change.

After a few comfortable minutes, feeling ever so slightly warmer, but no drier, they reluctantly released their hold on each other. All physical contact did not cease; they still remained hand in hand. Carefully stepping forward, Eragon guided her hands to his waist.

"Hold onto me" he ordered.

She obeyed. He neglected to mention the part where he was still searching for the right way. They were, for the moment calm and he intended to keep things that way. And so, with careful steps and probing hands, he began to lead Ella along the hidden path.

Saphira tried to pad along softly, but her large claws and frame would not allow it. Giving in, she no longer tried to soften the sound of her steps. Why should she? This was the place they had been trying to reach for almost as long as she could remember. It made no sense. Angry with herself, she wished that Eragon would call her. There was nothing she wanted more than to plough through the two people in front of her and put this day behind them. If only things could be that simple. The unease she felt at the moment had nothing to do with this place; it was the two of them walking before her. Their actions had both upset and confused her and now, their reaction to being here was alarming. If she could speak with them and find out what bothered them, she may have been able to rid herself of this irrational discomfort. There was no way to talk to either of them. She remembered Murtagh's constant reluctance to enter the Varden's hideout, which remained unexplained. He would never say a word on the subject. As for Lia, her actions hurt the most. When Saphira's anger had simmered down enough to contemplate approaching the girl, her mind was firmly closed. Lia was not letting _anyone _in.

Something about this place was making her cautious to the point of shutting _everyone_ out, even those that she knew. This did not bode well. Trusting Lia's instincts, she couldn't help but be worried. Not knowing _why_ made it all the more tempting to snap at their heels until they told her. The only reason she didn't stoop to that level of desperation was because she was certain that no matter what she did, they would say nothing. Reduced to following their lead, she grumpily matched their pace.

It was dark, but it wasn't uncomfortable. With their eyes adjusted, they could just about make out the sides of the tunnel through which they walked. It was the only way that they were presented with, so they followed their feet onward. They imagined they should have felt unnerved or uneasy, the normal reaction to such darkness. As usual, the normal rules that applied to everyone else did _not_ apply to the two of them. Whilst most feared the dark, they embraced it. To them, darkness was the cloak that kept them safe and hidden. Many a time they had hidden in the dark. In their dark sleeps they found their refuge. Darkness had a different meaning to them and here, in this place where they were sure to face their death, it was the darkness that cast away their concerns. The concerns were still there, but they were able to see them in a detached way. They were able to look at the situation as if it were just another job to be completed.

As they accepted their imminent death, the thought began to bother them less and less. Instead of fretting about how they would die and the loss of their precious lives, they began to look at things in a different way, a normal way. In a way that they would have approached the situation had it been any other day. They would fight and they would do their best. Just because they accepted their fate didn't mean that they wouldn't fight for their right to live. No. If this truly was their last opportunity to survive, they would give it their all, have some fun doing it and if they were dragged down, well they would make damn sure that they took some of the bastards down with them. None of this was discussed. It was a decision that required no debate. They weren't dead yet and until their execution was called for, they intended to keep it that way.

The first step to survival was discussing precautionary measures. Along with the comfort of the dark, there was Saphira's breath constantly warming them in the otherwise freezing cave. They had been walking for a long time. Long enough that their clothes were almost dry. They had let go of each other's hands. In this time, they needed to maintain their sense of individual power. To rely too much on each other would make them weaker. Together they were stronger, but as two separate beings working as a team, they were nigh unstoppable. Keeping a short distance between them, they lessened the urge to reach out. This was a time for business, not pleasure. And if there was one thing that they prided themselves in, it was their ability to switch between the two effortlessly. They would still have their fun, one way or another.

Murtagh glanced over his shoulder. He could make out Saphira's huge outline. Her snout only lay a few feet behind their heads. Had he not become accustomed to travelling in the company of a dragon, he would have been quaking in his boots with fear. He wasn't sure what her eyesight was like in the dark, but as he turned, the dragon unmistakably turned her head towards him and issued a hot, pungent puff of smoke in his face. He had been glaring at her. Sometimes he resented the way that she and all other dragons were revered so. Each time that he saw her now, all he could remember was how he had felt the moment she had ripped him away from the ground. Hit by the stench of her dragon breath, he gagged and abruptly turned to face forward. From beside him, he heard Lia's subtle snicker. Despite his bitterness, he smiled at the fact that they had fell so easily back into their normal, mocking ways. That even now, as close to death as they were; they could hang onto what they still had and find the nerve to laugh at one another.

_This is driving her insane_ Lia stated smugly

_The looks I am bestowing upon her?_ Murtagh asked hopefully

_As if you could irritate her in the slightest?!_

_No… but she does not like it_

_That is true, but what annoys her more is that she does not know why and I have not told her_

_Lia? Disrespecting a dragon? This is a first…_

_And what could I tell her? Our plan was our own_

_Does she not nag at you like some harridan?_

_My mind is sealed. From here on, no one is allowed inside_

_You are thinking of the rumours?_

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

_Yes. They have a faction of spell casters_

_I heard that they were weak…_

_Weak they may be, but those that lead them must be strong_

_Will they try to breach our minds?_

_It depends…on how suspicious they are…_

Murtagh laughed with little humour.

_A band of hidden rebels? No, I'm sure they will let us march straight on inside!_

His laugher cracked and his voice gave way to express his true concern.

_Exactly how strong do you think they will be?_

_Who knows?… My guess is that they will be… formidable opponents_

_I will not let them inside my head Lia_

All humour left his voice. He was deadly serious.

_Neither will I_ Lia reassured him

_Do you think we can do it?_ We will… or we will die trying 

Her tone was unperturbed. There really was no point worrying about their fate any longer. He thought back to the days before their connection was established, to that one day on the plains where he had challenged her to breach his mind. He remembered how she had fared afterwards. Reading his thoughts, Lia smiled wryly.

_Murtagh… scared of a little headache?_

She sought to play on his pride, to make him leap to his own defence and deny his worry. She knew him too well, but it wasn't quite a good enough tactic to tear his thoughts away from his memory of her writhing form. He became subdued. She sighed.

_Look… that first time was different… it was not as painful as it looked_

_It's not the pain woman…_

His voice trailed off; embarrassed that she had even considered it a possibility.

_Then what is it? _

_It's…agh…it's the damn pitiful look!_

_Ah…_

Lia suddenly understood. He was fuming on the inside; anger was good, anger was healthy, anger gave strength that other emotions could not. Anger could save them. She would feed his anger and share it. Through her understanding of his reaction, she found her own anger bubbling up inside. He was about to break into a rant; she would not interrupt. She would listen and drink in his words. It was curious how even here, inside their thoughts, she could hear his breathing increase, as his chest rose and fell with emotion. His voice was black with fury.

_I cannot fall in that way Lia. I have fought too many battles to have my life extinguished in such a way. If I am about to die, I want to die with my honour. I want my sword in my hand and a snarl on my lips. I will not be reduced to a snivelling, convulsing wreck on the floor, being watched as I weep and writhe my way into the next world. I will not allow myself to be remembered in such a way. I want to die fighting Lia. Do you understand? I would sooner take my own life than have them murder me so disgracefully!_

_They will not have their way with you Murtagh. And if I ever hear talk of you killing yourself, I promise to follow you and make your afterlife an eternal misery!_

_I mean it Lia_ he growled back at her

_So do I_ Lia countered with equal sincerity

_We deserve a better death than that!_

_And I promise you we shall have it. Do you think that it pleases me in the slightest that you hold that memory of my weakness? It sickens me. If you think that I will stand still and welcome the rape of my mind, you can bloody well think again!_

At the mention of the word "rape" a new type of anger fuelled his resolve. Forgetting their unspoken arrangement, he angled his walk towards her, reached out an arm and pinned her to his side. She struggled to free herself, but his fingers dug into her arm. His voice was low and harsh.

_No one is getting into your mind…and no one…and I mean no one…is going to touch you…If I see anyone even looking like that are thinking of touching you, blood will be spilled!_

_No one?… _

She said it innocently, but her voice was thick with implications. Gently prizing his hand from her shoulder, she brought it to her lips and proceeded to gently kiss his fingertips, one by one. A completely inappropriate urge filled his mind and he stepped away before he did anything rash. Somehow it was all too easy to forget the large dragon that stomped noisily behind them.

Although he couldn't see her, he knew that she was grinning wickedly. Women were indeed cruel. However, her plan, as no doubt it was, had worked; he was now too high strung to worry about the inescapable mind probe. He had responsibilities to Lia and he would not die before he could protect her from any perverse fiends that existed within this mountain. She would be touched by none. That was now _his_ right and he was not about to let some filthy bastard get his hands on her before even _he_ had had his chance! His head argued that it was the wrong time to be thinking about intimate encounters. The rest of him argued that he needed some incentive to try all the more harder. He smiled. He truly _was_ a man through and through.

The safe gap was between them once more, but it was not empty. A charge was passing from one to the other; the sensation was a little _too_ pleasant. Once more they were thankful for the darkness, but for different reasons than before. Elated by the turn in his thoughts, he continued their discussion on a lighter note.

So…how do we thwart these magic bearers? 

He asked the question, similar to one asking how to tie ones' laces.

_Together, I assume. I do not think it will be hard_

Her confidence made his smirk. She meant it.

_No. I imagine it will be quite easy_

He said the words and noticed that he too believe it.

_After all, apparently, between us, there is nothing we cannot do?_

She echoed his earlier thoughts by the waterfall with a grin.

Damn right! 

_They may be experienced, but I sincerely doubt that they have ever come across anything quite like us_

_We are rather unique, aren't we?_

Most definitely 

_Do you think it will be painful… for whoever tries? _

His voice was wistful.

_Oh I think we can give them slightly more than a headache_

Her assurance came in a voice filled with rancour.

_Slightly?_ He asked, sounding hopeful and eager to hear more.

_Well… I would not rule out a brain haemorrhage_

Good 

She shared Murtagh's vindictive smile at the thought of being able to hurt their future attackers. They were making their last stand. This was their last fight to cling to their lives. How far would they go to stay alive? Would they go a little wild? They silently agreed that they probably would, but this was their survival at steak and they intended to act in whatever defence was both suitable and necessary.

Quickening their pace, anxious to know what lay ahead, they headed towards whatever danger awaited them with welcoming smiles. If anything, they intended to make their stay here, no matter how short, memorable – both to themselves and to others. They _would_ leave their mark.

Saphira hurried to keep up with them. Now, more than ever, she regretted the gift that she had given them. A gift?! It now seemed like a curse! Without it, they would have been talking aloud and she may have understood what was happening! As it was, their behaviour toward her was not the only thing that nagged at her, their attitude towards _each other_ had changed. When Murtagh had reached for Lia pulling her to him, she had nearly snorted flame in surprise. Luckily for them, she hadn't, else they would have existed now as two, neat piles of steaming ash. What had _happened_ between them? Since _when_ had their relationship progressed to this new level? _Why_ did it disturb her? Surely it was natural? They were an impressive pair by all standards, but there was something about this union that did not sit right with her. It was a bad feeling that gnawed at her on the inside, an ominous feeling. Casting it aside, she followed them toward the end of the tunnel, waiting for the call of her Rider.

Eragon was pleased. It didn't seem like the right moment to feel such a way, but he was. They had been moving along slowly for a long time and despite their complete and utter blindness, he hadn't stumbled once, he hadn't lost his footing, his pace was careful and his motions were smooth. Even Ella's grip on his waist had relaxed a little. She hadn't questioned him nor muttered in worry. For once, he was in control of a situation and he was trusted. Ella actually believed in him. It was a wonderful feeling not to be perceived as a useless half-wit. Her belief in him boosted his ego no end. He started to believe in himself. He could do this. He spoke the words over and over in the back of his mind as he caught the first sign of light up ahead. Ella must have seen it too, for she moved herself to his side and reached for his hand.

"We're nearly there" she whispered excitedly.

"It certainly looks that way" he agreed.

In the faint glow of the light, he could just about make out their surroundings and the expression on her face; it was ambivalent, torn in between excitement and fear. Only a fine line existed between the two. He kept his face calm, almost neutral. _I'm getting better at this_; he mused. That was when he saw the collection of dark figures, ranging in height and size, appear at the end of the passage. He felt a lump rise in his throat. He fought it back. He would gulp back his fear. He had done well this far, he would not let the sinister looking shadows up ahead destroy the illusion he had created. Besides, they were inside the Varden?! Whoever these people were, they would be _friends_!

As they gradually grew closer, he could make out their appearances. There was a huddle of armed soldiers, standing behind two beings that were waiting to greet them. He thought the word "_beings_" was more appropriate because one of them was _not_ human. He was shorter, much shorter. The top of his head, even whilst wearing a helm, only touched the other man's elbow. Being short, stout and adorned in layers of chain mail, Eragon could only guess that this was a dwarf. He hoped the dwarf could not see him staring from this distance. He wanted to get the staring part over and done with now; to gawk at him when they were only a few feet apart would be more than discourteous, it would be plain rude.

Moving his eyes to the man, he felt himself wince. It was a strange reaction, but unavoidable. The man was tall, thin, robed and extremely pale. He looked like an unfinished painting and a bad one at that. His pallor made him look eerie. His head was also bald, making him appear even stranger. Upon even closer inspection, he could see that he had no facial hair whatsoever. No eyebrows, nothing. He looked like a large baby. The comparison made him all the more disgusting to behold. Quickly fixing his expression, he attempted to keep his cool. This mythical creature and the scary looking man were on the side of _good_.

He stopped a few paces before them. Their expressions were stony. The soldiers all had their weapons at the ready. It was not exactly the warm reception that he was expecting. Clearing his throat, he spoke in what he hoped was a tone of authority.

"I am the Rider. I have come to join you"

They stared at him in disbelief. Seeing that they had no intention to move or speak, he hesitated, before saying the words that Lia had told him. The dwarf's head bobbed in approval. The bald headed man studied Eragon curiously and when he spoke, there was a definite edge of mockery.

"_You_ are the _Rider_? … That is…_curious_…and _where_ prey is your _dragon_?"

Saphira…are you nearby? We are…I think…we are headed down a tunnel I will be waiting 

There was no denying the reassurance he felt when she had said the word "_we_". He blinked and let his lids remain closed for a brief second, as he acknowledged that Murtagh and Lia _hadn't_ abandoned him. Simply knowing that they would be with him shortly gave him the nerve to return the bald man's disparaging look with a grin.

"Oh Saphira is on her way and she is _not_ alone"

They all stiffened at his words. What were they expecting?! He wondered what their reaction would be to her and his colleagues.

"_Fine_…we _wait_" the bald man said curtly, closing further discussion.

They now stood in a wide, circular space, dimly lit, still somewhere inside the mountain. Eragon and Ella had come by one path. Another lay behind their welcoming committee. Only one other tunnel joined onto this room. It was large; easily suited for a dragon and all their eyes were fixed on it. Staring hard and listening even harder, they waiter for the first sign of the dragon and the others.

The walk downhill was a treacherous one. The path they had been on had been a bumpy one at the best of times and now, the only way was _down_ and it was _steep_ descent. Small, slippery stones and rocks removed any grace from their steps. They slipped, stumbled and fell all _too_ often and nothing existed for them to hold onto for support. Technically, that was not true; when one fell, they instinctively grabbed out for the other, dragging them down with them. Conversations were replaced by random single words, most of them on the lines of "_crap_", "_bugger_", "_shit_" and the all too frequent "_bloody hell_", as they fell repeatedly and grew more and more frustrated by the second. To make the situation even more unnerving, they had Saphira struggling to hold herself steady behind them, growing irritably after every few steps. Murtagh was the first to catch a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally! 

Lia glanced over her shoulder nervously and promptly slipped, taking a hold of Murtagh's arm as she fell. They both staggered backwards. Saphira halted abruptly and with difficulty, her scrambling claws knocking several large stones into the backs of Murtagh and Lia's legs. They spun around and cursed at her. She hissed back at them. Murtagh shook Lia's grip off him and scowled at her.

_Why did we not let her take the lead!_ Lia complained

_It is too late for regrets now!_ Murtagh snapped back

_And damn it woman! Must you take me down with you every bloody time?!_

_You can talk!? At least I grab for your arm! When you stumble like a blind man, you grab at me in the most inappropriate places!_

_I just got for the first thing I reach!_

_I think you could aim a little better if you tried!_

_That is what you get for making a man wait_

Ugh! 

She stamped ahead. He smirked and followed closely behind. That was when they heard the sound of a dozen small pebbles rolling and Saphira's surprised snort. They both realised what was about to happen. Racing past Lia, he grabbed hold of the back of her tunic and threw her forward. Landing on her backside, she slid down the steep slope that now acted as a slide, Murtagh was right behind her and advancing faster that they cared for; propelled by the force of her weight, was an out of control Saphira.

And so, being cut, scratched, bruised and beaten by the rocks beneath them and rolling behind them, the three of them came hurtling towards the end of what they could now only think of the "_humiliation chute_".

The dwarf took an involuntary step back, sensing what was coming. The soldiers and the bald man backed up against one of the walls to the sides, their expressions incredulous. Eragon and Ella stared hard at the tunnel. A rumbling noise echoed loudly from inside and grew louder by the second.

"You may want to step aside", the dwarf said gruffly, in warning.

Eragon toyed with the idea of not moving at all. It could be perceived as being very brave or… a _complete_ act of _idiocy_. Pulling Ella by the hand, he dragged her backward and not a moment too soon.

It was like watching a terribly performed play. Lia came shooting out first, her backside slid to a halt not far from the entrance to the tunnel. Her expression was stunned and then turned dismal, knowing that she had neither the time nor energy to react to what would happen next. She allowed herself a fleeting moment to raise her eyes to the heavens, before Murtagh came crashing into her. His two feet connected with her back and sent her sprawling forward. He had enough time to wince at her in apology, before the grand finale. The both of them cringed and squeezed their eyes shut. There was a whining roar and then Saphira arrived. The full force of her large body hit Murtagh, who hit Lia in turn. The three of them shot across the length of the room and smashed into the far wall. The sound of their impact was deafening and was met with a gasp by all that bore witness.

A cloud of debris hid them from view and as it slowly faded, Eragon was expecting to see a Saphira shaped hole in the wall. He envisioned her sliding away to reveal a Murtagh and Lia shaped imprint beneath her own.

_Saphira!_ He cried out

_I am here… I am fine_ she muttered

Confirming her words, she rose to her full height. Protected by her scaly exterior, she hadn't suffered a scratch. She still looked very impressive, regardless of her entrance. From behind her, Murtagh and Lia stepped into view. Their expressions were cool and impassive as they brushed the dirt off their clothes.

Lia's hand moved along the back of her tunic. She could feel large tears in the material and behind them, gouges in her back. She was too embarrassed to care about the pain.

On the inside they were seething, on the outside they still appeared casually unperturbed by their introduction. They glanced at the crack in the wall behind them with little interest.

_It could have been worse_ Lia said optimistically

How…?! 

_Considering the fact that we just got pinned between a stone wall and a dragon, we are looking bloody good!_

_When I said that I wanted us to be remembered, this was not what I had in mind!_

Murtagh eyed the bald man and the dwarf analytically.

_All right… which one of these bastards is the one who will fry my brain. I have changed my mind. Nothing could be more shameful than what just happened to us!_

_Say what you must, but it was a memorable entrance none the less_

_Lia…_

_Yes?_

_You look like dung_

_Murtagh…_

_Yes?_

_You look like dragon dung_

_Lia…_

_Yes?_

I think you missed a spot… 

He stared at her dirt-encrusted rear. She turned her head as far as it would go, gave her backside a quick check and then glanced over at his with a grin. Murtagh narrowed his eyes.

_What?…_

_I may have missed a spot, but at least my arse isn't hanging out for the world to see_

Murtagh fought his creasing brow and bid the blood to stop running to his face.

_You jest!_ He accused, hoping against hope

_I am being perfectly serious_ she assured him.

He did not feel reassured.

_How bad is it?…_

_It is just the one…_

_Just the one what?!_ He demanded impatiently

_Buttock!_ She answered gleefully

Her jaw was clenched tight, preventing the laughter from escaping. His face turned white and then, there was no stopping the red that followed.

Will someone please just kill me and end the humiliation?! 

_I do not know why you are making such a fuss! I happen to think your arse is rather breath taking_

_You do?_ He asked, still annoyed, but mildly interested in what she had to say

_Why that is the single most beautiful buttock I have ever laid my eyes on! They will simply die of jealousy alone! _

She flashed a grin his way. He stared at her speculatively and folded his arms.

_My Lady… the rubbish you talk to ease my nerves is beyond ridiculous. You are insane… Have I ever told you that I am almost absolutely certain that I am in love with you?_

_No…_ she replied, pleasantly surprised

_Remind me to tell you properly when people are not staring at us like we are complete simpletons_

_I will hold you to that_

_Hmmm…_

_What?_

_Would it be disgustingly appropriate to tell you after…?_

_After what?_

It is "tomorrow"… 

He let his voice trail off. She got the message, thought about it, grimaced and yet felt herself nodding on the inside.

_I suppose if we are going to do this, we should do it properly_

_This is hardly fair you know_ he sulked

What isn't? 

_I just told you I loved you woman! That was not as easy as it sounded! Some reaction would be welcome. Some indication that you may feel the same?_

_I am standing beside you in front of two men who will probably decide whether we should live or die and I will follow you no matter what their choice. I think that roughly translates the fact that I love you too. Either that or I am just really, really bloody stupid_

He grinned. She grinned. This entire conversation, expressions and all happened inside their minds. As ever, their exterior showed no indication that they were conversing privately. It was only obvious to those that knew them. Saphira chose to ignore them the way they had her. Ella stared at them in surprise and relief, being the only one who had guessed that they had intended to depart. Only Eragon smiled at them confidently, his face was a picture of reassurance. They accepted his expression gratefully. At least there was _one_ person who, despite their _interesting_ arrival, did not look at them strangely.

Eragon was careful to hold his smile. He was more than pleased to see his friends; he could not however help feel that their entrance had somehow put a _damper_ on his build up to their introduction. Still, they were here and nothing else mattered. He opened his mouth to introduce them by name. That was when the flashback caught him. He could almost feel the pain in his ribs at the memory; Tornac kicking him in the chest, startled by Murtagh's raised voice as he protested against being taken to the Varden. He promptly closed his mouth. Murtagh had dragged himself here against his will. Eragon would not thank him by putting his life at risk. He knew not what Murtagh had done to fear them so, but he knew what he had done for _him_. If he truly held power within the Varden, he would use it to keep his friends safe. Thinking before he spoke!? He was surprising himself more and more!

Pulling Ella by his side, he went to stand between Saphira and his slightly tattered looking companions. Pretending that what had happened was nothing of importance; he gently waved his hand to his side in form of brief introduction.

"Saphira, my dragon…and on my right, my personal guard"

Murtagh's lips twitched a fraction. Lia held her serious expression with ease. His deep chuckle tickled the back of her mind.

Oh Rider! Stop it! You are making me blush! 

_I am impressed. I never knew that he had a way with words_

I'll say one thing, he is not as stupid as I thought 

_Oh?_

_No. I cannot deny that I find the concept difficult to grasp… but I believe he is attempting to be cunning_

_This could work to our advantage…_

_It just might…_

The soldiers crept forward; their spears still at the ready. The dwarf and the bald man stood at the head of the group. Neither attempted to move any closer than a few feet away from them and their expressions differed from the other. The dwarf eyed the dragon in wonder and paid little attention to the other humans. The bald man seemed to ignore the Rider and let his eyes pass over the other three curiously, with a disturbingly hungry look in his eyes.

"Names?" he prompted.

"This is Ella" Eragon said, taking hold of her hand protectively.

"And the _others_?" he inclined his head towards Murtagh and Lia, who had not said a word.

"They have no names" Eragon replied smoothly, "Their names and business are their own. Their services have been _beyond _sufficient and I never felt the need to ask"

_Since when was he a good liar?!?_ Murtagh asked in disbelief

_People change_ Lia reminded him meaningfully

The bald man turned his head from the Rider and stared hard at his "_guard_".

"Tell me your names" he commanded them.

They said nothing, although their stances changed. They took a side step toward each other, folded their arms and scrutinised the man that made the demand. Murtagh's eyes could not seem to move from the bald man's face.

_No_ he said simply

_No_ Lia agreed

Although to what she was agreeing to, she was unsure.

_He is one ugly bastard!_

_That is the understatement of a lifetime_

There was no arguing with him on that fact. The man was repellent in _every_ way. Murtagh grimaced.

_Please… do not misunderstand me…I have every intention of surviving, but if I am to die at the hands of another, he had better be a handsome devil!_

_Of course! We have standards if nothing else!_

Indeed!…but they cannot be better looking than us either 

_Do you ever stop and wonder if we ask for too much?_

_Never_

The subject was closed. Their decision was made. They simply _refused_ to die courtesy of this man.

"Who is asking?" Lia enquired, her tone polite, but her eyes bore into his.

"_You_ are not at liberty to ask questions" he replied with a condescending look.

"Neither are _you_" Murtagh said, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"It is our duty to assess whoever wish to enter the Varden. We need to make sure you pose no threat"

"And our names will clarify that?" Lia asked sceptically.

A smile tugged at the corner of the bald man's mouth. It was horrible. There was nothing this man could do to alter his disgusting face. Everything about him looked unnatural. He stepped backwards and pointed a finger to the empty space before him.

"Knowing your names only aid the pleasantries. I will know your names whether you decide to tell me or not. Before we can let you pass…or _live_ for that matter… you must endure a mental probe. If you would care to form an orderly line… The two of you and the girl if you please… _Ella_, wasn't it?"

He turned to look at her, eager for the interrogation to begin. Eragon's grip on her hand tightened. Ella's own threatened to crush his fingers. She tried to keep herself composed, but she was petrified. She did not want this sinister looking man inside her head. She had never had someone inside her head before. What would he make of what he saw when he witnessed her life of theft and most importantly her brutal killing? Would she be condemned to death once more? Despite her frozen features, she couldn't stop the tears from springing to her eyes. Too scared to blink, the pools of water clouded her vision, but she did not allow the tears to fall.

Eragon didn't need to have a mental connection with her to know what she was feeling. He couldn't let them enter her mind. He couldn't let harm come to her, not to _any_ of them. All he had ever wanted was to keep them protected. For so long he had heard them speak of the special treatment he would have when he reached this point in his journey. He was the _Rider_. He would get his respect. He didn't feel much like the person his role demanded he should be, but right now, he needed to sound the part. Was he in a position to make demands? He was about to find out.

"That will _not_ be necessary" he instructed the bald man in a stern tone.

"_Really_ Rider. And why is _that_?"

"These three have travelled with me for a long time now. If they wished you or the Empire any harm, they would have led me astray or killed me whilst they had the chance. They have done nothing but protect me and put their lives on the line to keep me alive time and time again. They are trusted friends and allies. To question their intentions after coming so far is an insult both to them and to myself. You _will_ let them pass"

"_No_"

The reply was instant. It was as though he hadn't listened to a word Eragon had said. He faced the Rider now and dared to move a step closer. He stopped a metre away, standing several heads taller than the rest of them. He surveyed Eragon through mocking eyes.

"Your words mean little to me Rider. The only reason that I do not subject _you _to the same treatment is because _you_ are who you say you are and we are _obliged_ to let you pass. They _will_ succumb to the mind probe or we _will_ imprison them, under suspicion of being in allegiance with the _King_"

Eragon's eyes moved unwillingly to his two protectors. He had done all he could for them. As if reading his thoughts, they slowly nodded at him, whether in thanks or defeat, he could not be sure. He felt the nausea creeping up on him. Ella was white as a sheet. He would not let go of her hand.

"Can we not reach some _compromise_? These are my _friends_; therefore they are _my_ responsibility. Allow them inside. Allow them to stay beside me at _all_ times. They will be _my_ responsibility and I will be held accountable for _all_ of their actions" Eragon asked in a voice that struggled to keep from a pleading tone.

"That is _unacceptable_. As you _should_ know, a Rider will be divulged _private_ information. You will _not_ be able to keep your word. It matters not. They are bound to our laws, as you all were when you entered the mountain. Now…if you would be so kind as to release your hold on the girl…I should _very_ much like to start with _her_"

Ella's hand made no move to let go of his. He made no attempt to let go of hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Saphira pleading with him.

_Little one…let go of her hand…_

_I cannot…I cannot let him know…_

_If you go against them and their rules now, how will you ever fulfil your destiny?_

_If my destiny involves subjecting my friends to torture, I am not sure that I want any part in it!_

_You are overreacting. Her crime will be of no concern to them_

_But what if it is?! Will they care for her reasons or judge her by the act alone?!_

_I do not know…_

_There must be a way to appease them and not put her at risk!_

_There may be a way…_

_How?_

_You and I… we could block him out…_

_Could we?_

_He may know magic, but you have something that he does not…_

_You…_

_Exactly! He will be no match for us_

_But he will know… he will know we are blocking him_

_Our actions will have consequences… whether good or bad…_

_I will accept them_

_Are you certain?_

_Yes_

_Then you have my support_

With great reluctance, he used his other hand to prize Ella's fingers away from his own. Her eyes widened. He gave her a hard, determined look. He wanted to reassure her with his eyes. She must have seen something in them, for afterwards, her hand fell from his and she did not try to take it again. Leaving his side, she went to stand before the bald headed man.

"Will this _hurt_?"

It was all she could bring herself to ask. She avoided his eyes.

"Only if you try to _resist_" he replied with a smile.

Having no training in the art of mental defence, she could only stand there and wait. The bald headed man approached her and placed his abnormally large and cold hands on either side of her face. She winced under his touch. His smile spread.

"And _now_…we _begin_"

_NOW!_ Eragon ordered Saphira

Together, as one, they got to her before he did. Her mind was like an open field. It welcomed anyone and anything. They had no time to discuss tactics and did the first thing that came to mind. They took the form of a thick, black cloak that covered every inch of her mind. Their determination made the task easier than they would have thought. Not having had time to think, they had done exceptionally well. Moments after they had shielded her, the bald man came. His approach was slow, which surprised them. He was equally surprised to see that her mind was defended so.

"I _warned_ you little girl…"

"_What?_" Ella asked worriedly

"_Drop_ your guard!"

"I do not know what you are _talking_ about!"

"Then that is a _shame_ because _this_ is going to _hurt_"

Launching his presence at the shield, he felt it shudder and ripple from the force of his attack, but nothing happened. He hit it again and again. As he repeatedly continued to attack, his expression hardened, his teeth clenched together and he felt a bead of sweat beginning to form on his brow.

Ella simply stared back, utterly perplexed by what she was seeing. Was something supposed to be _happening_? With the effort etched in his face, should she not feel some form of _pain_? It _looked_ painful, whatever it was that he was doing. She shot Eragon a furtive glance, to see his eyes and all his concentration fixed on her. Saphira was also staring at her with an intensity that made her feel extremely nervous.

The bald man caught the look in her eyes and abruptly stopped what he was doing. His face had returned to its normal, slightly bored expression. He turned to the Rider, cocking an eyebrow in interest.

"You _dare_ interfere with our laws?" he challenged.

"I dare" Eragon said, sounding braver than he felt.

"I will give you a limited amount of time to dwell on your actions. I will leave her be, until _after _I have seen to your _other_ friends. Then you make your decision. If you intercept any more of my examinations with your Rider powers, I _will_ have her and _anyone_ _else_ thrown into a cell for questioning of a _less pleasant_ nature. Am I making myself perfectly _clear_? It is your call Rider"

Dismissing her with a wave of his hand, she sprinted to Eragon's side and questioned him with her eyes. He could only shake his head sadly as he tried to think of another way to keep her mind safe. She took his hand once more and squeezed it gently in form of thanks. He had done whatever he could to save her from harm and in the end, he could only do what he could. Silently, she resigned herself to her fate.

Eragon's expression was torn. He needed to plan and yet he _had _to see how Murtagh and Lia fared against this monster. He could not help them the way that he had helped Ella. Well, he _could_ have, but he knew that the act would _not_ be appreciated. They could defend themselves. Or _could _they? Unable to form one single thought, he focused all his will and hope on his friends. Somehow, he knew that, as always, regardless of how hard he tried to succeed, _they_ were his only hope. Ella, Eragon and Saphira watched with baited breath. Would their friends fall or would they come out fighting?

It was uncontrollable; a smile spread across Murtagh's face. Lia's only showed polite interest in what was about to happen. The bald man stepped before them.

"So… who would like to go first?" 

"That would be _me_" Murtagh spoke eagerly as he took a step forward.

"You understand what I am about to do?"

"What you are about to _try_ to do" Murtagh corrected him, his voice was smug.

"I am _sorry_…are you a _Rider_?"

"No"

"Do you posses any magical blood _in _you?"

"No"

"Then your mind will be like _putty _in my hands"

"We shall _see_"

"You seem _extremely_ confident…"

"I _am_"

"Are you so _eager_ to break our rules and be locked away?"

"Not _particularly_, but my mind is my _own_"

"Does your… _friend_…share your relentlessness?"

Lia nodded once in response. Pleased by their response, the bald man rolled up the sleeves of his robes and eagerly reached for Murtagh's face. Murtagh took a step back and drew his sword, resting the tip under the bald man's chin. The soldiers rushed forward, every spear pointed at him. The dwarf, who was hefting a large axe, calmly stepped in between them.

"Put that down stranger" he ordered in a low grumble.

"I do _not _want his hands on me" Murtagh insisted through gritted teeth.

"Very well" the bald man said, as he gently pushed the tip of the blade away from him, "I do not need contact…_not_ for the likes of _you_" he added dryly.

Lowering his weapon slowly, he sheathed his blade. Lia hadn't moved at all. He cast her a glance and her lips twitched into a quick smile.

_You are somewhat a little volatile today_

_Would you want him touching you?!_

_Indeed not! His arms would have ended in bloodied stumps if he had tried_

_And I would expect nothing less from you_

The soldiers stepped back, as did the dwarf, leaving the three of them in a space to themselves.

_Are you ready?_ Lia asked calmly

_For this dog? Any time, any place, anywhere…_

_The let us put him in his rightful place_

_At our feet_

Murtagh's defences were already raised. They were _permanently_ raised. All _he_ had to do was wait for Lia's barriers to join _his_. His own was a simple stone wall, which spread as high and wide as the eye could see. From the confines of his safe place, he saw Lia appear beside him. This was certainly _different_. He normally _sensed_ her physical appearance, making him aware of her facial expressions and such. Not _this_ time. At that very moment, she was stood clearly beside him, inside his head. It was very comforting. She blinked up at the wall and raised a teasing brow.

_A wall…_

_Are you disrespecting my defence?!_

_Not at all…I just expected something a little more…interesting?_

_It has served me well_ he stated brusquely

_I do not doubt that it has_ she said soothingly

_Well what is so incredible about your defence?!_

_Mine has a little more… style?_

_Show me_

_You may want to step back…_

The ground began to shake and the tip of the mountain started to push its way up from the ground. It hovered there for a brief second, only the tip protruding, like a small creature unsure of its surroundings, testing the surface, just to be cautious. Then it exploded from the ground. They both fell backwards, landing heavily and scrambling further back as Lia's gargantuan defence protecting the interior of Murtagh's own. The mountain rose so high that they were thrown into its shadow almost instantly. The rumbling of the seemingly ever-growing mountain range stopped only when it had reached its full height. They were thrown into blind darkness once more. Their defences were ready. All this had happened in the space of a few seconds. Murtagh paused before speaking.

_Bloody hell Lia…_

_I know… it could be considered a little… much?_

_Now… now I just feel embarrassed!_

Lia shrugged modestly and held out her hand. He took it and immediately felt the power pass between them. It didn't seem to matter that the contact wasn't _physically_ real. Here, it _felt_ as real as it could. Maybe that was all that mattered? They were ready and waiting for the first attack of the bald headed man.

Saphira swung he head around so that her scaly face almost touched Eragon's cheek.

_This should be interesting…_

_They both look so far away…_

The both of them stood, staring intently at the bald man, but their eyes were unseeing. He tried to catch the rising and falling of their chests as they breathed, the motion was there but it was barely perceptible. They were in some form of trance, their eyes glazed over. Wherever they were, they were not here anymore. They were somewhere else, getting ready to fight back, no doubt. His nervousness subsided and a grim smile crossed his lips. Saphira noticed the change.

_Why are you smiling?_

_I think someone is about to get a surprise_

Ella's eyes wondered from Murtagh and Lia and finally to Eragon. All three faces showed nothing but genuine confidence. Despite her own worry, she could not help but ease her grip on Eragon's hand. They never had reason to doubt their companions' capability to succeed at their tasks at hand. Why should their belief in them dwindle now? Ella too found herself smiling. As if she had somehow heard Saphira's words, she too thought that whatever happened next would indeed be…_interesting_.

Raising his hands palm upward, the bald man closed his eyes. He didn't have to, but he felt that on _this_ occasion, a little extra surge of power would be appropriate. He did not like this boy, or the girl for that matter. He didn't like being confronted in such a way. Maybe the Rider held them in high regard, but here inside the mountain, they were vermin. They had no rights, no say, not until _he_ deemed otherwise. He would make an _example_ of them. He would humble them. They would _all_ see _exactly_ how powerful and painful the process could be. He gathered up his energy and prepared to break the young man's mind before him.

Lia was the first to feel it. The sound was as faint as the whisper of an arrow as it sailed through the air, but it made her senses tingle. Murtagh felt it a second later and grinned.

Let us see what he is made of… 

The power of the attack was immense. The mountain shook, sending a cloud of debris sailing to the ground. They didn't see it falling; they only felt it when it showered down upon them. Murtagh shook his head to rid it from his hair. Lia spluttered and coughed a little. Other than that, they did not seem worried in the least.

_Hmmm…_ Lia muttered, deep in thought

_Was that it?_ Murtagh asked casually

No… I do not think so… Well that was not so impr- 

The second attack caught them off guard and the ground shook so hard that they had to fight to stay standing. The mountain shook even more violently than before, but it still held firm. Murtagh's wall on the other hand had suffered a casualty. He let out a low growl and uttered an oath. He could feel Lia's questioning look, despite the dark. He muttered in embarrassment.

_My wall…_

_What about it?_

_He put a damn crack in it_

_How big is it?_

_Does it matter?!_

_Of course it does… now… how much damage did he do?_

_It is small… but it is at a weak point. I didn't even know my wall had a week point?! This bastard is a clever one…Gah!_

_All right. We gave him a chance to make his presence felt and knock politely…_

_And now?_

_Now we politely refuse_

_How politely did you have in mind?_

_I was thinking of slamming the door in his face…metaphorically speaking of course_

_And physically speaking?_

_Have you ever thrown a mountain before?_

_No. Have you?_

_Never_

_I see fun times ahead_

_We wait for him to attack again_

_Why don't we make our move right now? We have an opening to attack?_

_We should let him think he has the upper hand. We wait for him to get very close and then, we beat him back for good_

_That sounds humiliating. I like it_

_I thought you might…just one more thing_

_What?_

_Show me your wall…_

Unable to see it, he projected what he saw in his mind to her. Through him, she saw the crack and concentrated on it. The crack sealed.

_Better?_

_Do I want to know how you did that?_ He asked uncertainly

_I do not even know how I did that. It just made sense. If we are to hurl our defences at him they should be complete_

_I am not arguing with you_

_Ssssssh! _

_Is it -?_

_He is coming_

_Ready?_

_Ready_

His approach was no longer a whisper. Its sound was as subtle as a stampeding herd of cattle. He was being impatient, his style was no longer his concern. Angry, desperate and violently persistent, he was determined to break through the defence. Taking the equivalent of a running start, he begun his attack from much further back, racing forward with his power, building its momentum and with each millisecond that passed, it grew closer and stronger.

Just as the bald man had charged his power, Murtagh and Lia began to draw on theirs. It was a curious and satisfying feeling, being aware of ones energy within and gathering it all together at a single point. They began to harness it in, ready to unleash it at will. The power was strong. It was their individual power and what was produced when combined. Building it up was the easy part, holding it in was the _real_ challenge. Lia kept her half under complete control, unlike Murtagh, who found it beyond difficult. He could feel the attack getting closer. It made him anxious and even more willing to let go.

_Now?_ He asked eagerly

No… 

It was twenty seconds away.

_Now?_ He pleaded

Wait for it… 

Ten seconds away.

_Lia!_ He yelled frantically

Wait! 

Five seconds away.

_NOW!_ She roared

The both of them let go. It was as easy as that. Their power seemed to take on the shape of an illuminated tidal wave. The only difference was the frightening speed that it smashed against the mountain, sending it, along with the wall, hurtling into their foe. From the light of their power and the mountain being pushed completely out of their line of sight, they stood in the deserted land that occupied the outskirts of Murtagh's mind. Murtagh tried to sense any enemy presence. It was gone. Able to see Lia for the first time in what felt like too long, he grinned triumphantly.

_That was amazing!_

_It is not over yet_

_We should probably get back_

_Yes. You do not want him to know that I played a part in this_

It would make me look good, wouldn't it? 

_Deceptively so_

_I could have held him off_ Murtagh grumbled a little

_Of course you could have… mister holey wall_

_Shut up!_ He retorted

He swung a clumsy fist at her, which she ducked under with ease.

_Get out of my head wench!_ He said with mock anger

_With pleasure_

She beamed, with a serene smile, her image shimmered and then she was gone. But of course, as always, her connection remained.

Eragon studied their faces with care. Murtagh and Lia's expressions remained serious and detached. The bald man's however, swiftly began to undergo a few changes. His lips were now in a thin line, pressed so hard together that they were barely visible. His closed eyes were now creased at the corners and several, trailing beads of sweat ran down his temples. His once opened palms were now two clenched fists. And the final, most shocking sign, was a single drop of blood that had seeped from the bald man's nostril. It trailed across his lips, down the length of his chin and then dripped to the floor.

The moment his blood stained the ground, the bald man stood upright. His face showed no sign of his previous struggle. He licked the blood from his lips and though his expression was mildly curious, Eragon thought he could see anger burning behind the man's eyes.

Lia was the first to return to her body and not a second too soon. The bald headed man threw her a suspicious look to which she replied with a cold stare. Murtagh's lids fluttered once, he glanced around himself to regain his bearings and then fixed his eyes upon his enemy with a smirk on his face.

Saphira inched her head back from Eragon's. She radiated smugness. Eragon reached out and patted the side of her neck.

_I gave them that ability_ she said; sounding pleased with her self

And they are eternally grateful I am sure 

_Look at the hideous man! He cannot think of a word to say. Can you feel his embarrassment? I can practically taste it in the air!_

_What will happen now?_

_I do not know… but I can tell you this…we have a cornered wild animal on our hands and that is never a good thing_

_Were all our efforts in vain? Was it wrong for us to resist? Have we made matters worse?_

_Possibly, but Eragon, it is never wrong to defend that which matters to you the most_

_I would never want him inside my mind_

_Oh you never need to worry about that_ she reassured him, throwing a menacing look at the bald man.

Lia, wanting to test the result of what had just happened, took a step forward to stand beside Murtagh.

"My turn?" She asked innocently enough

She already knew what the answer would be. He gave her an appraising look and pretended to ponder on whether it was worth it.

_We gave him a nosebleed!_

She heard Murtagh chuckle, sounding positively delighted by the fact.

_Unfortunately, I doubt that we shall get a chance to give him anything more_

As the bald man fixed a thoughtful expression on his face, his insides writhed with humiliation. Who was this young man that had such power and was no Rider? Should he kill him? Find some way to be rid of him? Or should he study him? _Or_ should he convince him to join them? No. The young man was an enemy, he would not be convinced and what of the _girl_? There was something about her that suggested something _more_. Did she have _similar _power? Was that why she had encouraged him to test her? There was _much_ to think about and being under constant scrutiny of the Rider was becoming annoying. He needed to make a decision. _He _was still the authority here. The Rider did not have to know that he had failed at his task. He could still taste his own blood, reminding him of his defeat. Adamant to get to the bottom of whatever was going on, he calmly snapped his fingers. The soldiers appeared at his side, awaiting their orders. He waved towards the young man and woman.

"Seize them" he ordered calmly

Murtagh and Lia drew their weapons.

"Wherever you plan to take us, we are _more_ than happy to walk _alone_" Murtagh growled.

"We need no physical escort. I can _assure_ you, we can be _very _well behaved" Lia added in a more reasonable, yet still angry tone.

To emphasise the point, she slowly lowered and sheathed her weapon. Murtagh, all be it grudgingly, mimicked her actions.

_What the hell are we doing?_ He demanded, infuriated

_Buying us and the Rider some time_

_Really?! Because it looks a lot like we are getting dragged to a cell?!_

_Not dragged…merely guided_

_Lia?!?!_

_Yes?_

Her voice was calm.

_I… I hope you know what we're doing, because I honestly don't have a bloody clue anymore!_

_Do not worry, neither do I_

_Well that's comforting_

_Get ready…_

_What for now? _He complained

_They are about to ask for our weapons_

_They are taking nothing!_

_Yes they are and we will hand them over without argument_

_Have you lost your mind?!_

_Murtagh… between us…you and I have a much more valuable weapon… a little more faith if you please_

Her questioning his dependence on his sword made him stiffen.

If there is one thing I have faith in, it is us 

He dropped his sword and then removed his hunting knife and threw it to the floor. Lia unsheathed both of her swords, her dagger and knife and gently lay them at her feet. Stepping back, they allowed for their weapons to be taken away. The bald man seemed taken aback by their efficiency and co-operation. Murtagh saw something in his face that made him feel more comfortable with this temporary surrender.

_Are you seeing what I am?_

_Yes…_

_We are actually making him more nervous!_

_It does not hurt to make him think we have more to us than meets the eye_

_He feels threatened_

_And so he should_

_What are the chances that he will just kill us faster?_

_I doubt it. A man such as him is fuelled by greed. He will want to study us first…_

_I do not like the sound of that_

_Neither do I, but it buys us time to plan_

_And I am sure the time we have just gained in a cell will be the perfect venue to concoct one…You wouldn't happen to have any plans forming as we speak, any strokes of genius that you are waiting to dazzle me with?_

_I am good… I am not that good_ - she replied with a roll of her eyes, before adding the one word… _Patience!_

The soldiers collected the weapons and closed in on the two, but left a safe distance around them. The bald man turned to the Rider and then he spoke to the dwarf.

"Escort the girl. She goes with the _others_"

Eragon's face paled as Ella's hand slipped away from his. She gave him a confident nod and went to stand beside the dwarf, who watched her carefully, but not cruelly. She told herself that for the moment, she had nothing to worry about. She was going to be taken to a holding place with Lia and Murtagh. The prospect of being in their company once more fought back her need to scream. Even if they could not keep her safe, she would at least _feel_ safe. Lia met her eyes briefly and winked at her reassuringly. The one, small movement almost brought tears to her eyes. Their lives were at risk and her friend still made an effort to comfort her. She smiled back at her in attempt to match their seeming ease. Murtagh saw the exchange and grinned. The bald headed man turned on his heel abruptly, took a few steps and then froze. When he turned, he fixed the Rider with an unbelievable stare.

"My associates inform me that there are two _horses _swimming at the base of the waterfall, half drowned, but _continually_ attempting to swim _through_. Do _you_ know anything about this?"

Eragon's eyes widened in surprise and panic.

"_Snowfire? Tornac?_"

"How are they behaving in such a manner?" the bald man demanded.

"I told them to follow us," Eragon said, with no trace of the lie in his voice.

"Well your horses are drawing _attention_ to our _hideout_" the bald man hissed, "Whatever spell you cast on them, end it _now_ or they _will_ be shot _down_!"

"Do not shoot them!"

"They are half _drowned_ Rider. To shoot them would be a more _merciful_ death that that which they inflict upon _themselves_"

"I will end my hold on them…"

He closed his eyes and pretended to undo the spell. Whilst he feigned this act, he hoped that Lia was able to undo what she had done. It could only have been her.

_Tornac!_ Murtagh cried out in a pained voice

Lia was already reaching out to the horses. She visualised them thrashing in the water and when she saw them clearly enough; she whispered the words that would undo the spell. Released, the horses immediately began to head for land.

They are safe… 

Murtagh sighed in relief.

As Eragon had no idea when the task would be complete, he kept his head down and waited for some sign that it was done. After a few seconds, the bald man spoke.

"Very good… you have _excellent_ range Rider"

"I was trained well"

"It certainly _appears_ that way…_now_…we leave this place"

Then it hit him. How could he have been so _forgetful_?! How could he have been so _inconsiderate_?! How hadn't even _Saphira _remembered her burden? They had all completely and utterly forgotten about the _elf_!

"We have an injured member of our party! Before we go, you _must _see to her!" Eragon demanded.

At his words, Saphira lowered herself to the ground and all eyes landed on the female form strapped to her back. Their eyes flashed with recognition.

"_Arya!_" the dwarf gasped.

"What happened to her? How did you find her?!" the bald man shouted, as he advanced on the Rider.

Saphira growled and he stopped in his tracks.

"I saw her in a dream. She was being held in Gil' Ead by a red haired man. She has never woken"

"Durza. The _Shade_?" the dwarf asked with distaste.

"Yes" Murtagh replied in Eragon's stead.

"She looks like she has been poisoned. We must take her to the healers" the dwarf continued to mutter as he approached Saphira's side.

"Will she live?" Eragon asked.

"Only if we can get her off this bloody beast" the dwarf panted, as he struggled to unfasten the elf. Saphira snarled at his words and he glared back at her defiantly; a reaction she was unused to. Wordlessly, Eragon and Ella helped lower her to the ground. The bald headed man examined the guard surrounding Murtagh and Lia.

"Two of you take Arya to the healers and be quick! We have wasted enough time already!" he barked.

They picked her up and hurried away, down the furthest tunnel and out of sight.

"How did you escape the Shade?"

"We killed it" Eragon answered with confidence.

"_Actually_… we did _no_ such thing," Murtagh said regretfully.

All eyes swung to him, including Lia's. Her voice boomed in the back of his head.

_And you were going to tell me this information when?!?_

_A lot has happened since then. It slipped my mind_

She inwardly cursed at him, but like the rest of them, waited for him to speak aloud.

"He took an arrow to the head" he stated, as if that explained everything.

The bald headed man, dwarf and remaining soldiers nodded gravely. Eragon, Ella and Lia still stared at him expectantly.

"You cannot _kill _a Shade unless you pierce him through the _heart_" he explained for their benefit.

"He will already be regenerating and will rejoin Galbatorix soon, that is if he has not _already_" the bald man muttered angrily.

No one said a word. There was nothing more to say. The bald man began to stride away, the dwarf followed with Ella by his side, followed by Murtagh and Lia at spear-point by the remaining soldiers and at the rear of the line were Eragon and Saphira. Unlike the other tunnels, this one was lit by warm and gentle red lighting. Although it was lit, they could see no end to it. They marched in silence, on and on and on. Two hours must have passed, when suddenly there was an unmistakable turn. The bald man stopped.

"This is where we part ways. Do you have any last words for your _friends_ Rider? Can you convince them to be more co-operative?"

"It is not my place to give them orders"

"Then bid them farewell, for _this_ is where they stay until their intentions have been discerned"

Eragon looked at each of them in turn and his expression hardened.

"You will let me see them? You will let me appeal against this unnecessary treatment?" he argued angrily.

"The treatment is necessary until _I_ say otherwise and as far as an appeal is concerned, the only person who has higher authority than I is _Ajihad_, our leader"

"Take me to him!" Eragon demanded.

Lia heard Murtagh's laugh, despite his stony face.

_Oh my! Listen to him making demands! He is starting to enjoy this a little too much_

_Well at least he is starting to sound the part_

_He is better at this than I would have thought_

_Maybe his persistence will pay?_

_Oh it will…_

His mood darkened suddenly.

_Ajihad…_ she whispered, understanding his change in tone and mood

"In time Rider. He is in a meeting at present. But we will show you to a suitable room and give you the opportunity to… freshen up" he added with a pointed sniff of the air, "You must be presentable and at least _look_ the part to impress our leader"

Eragon said nothing, but seethed on the inside at the insulting words. He chose to ignore them and stood at his full height, as it was he was still depressingly shorter than the man he was attempting to belittle. He faced his friends.

"I _will _get you out of here" he stated, before marching onward down the tunnel.

The bald man motioned a mocking hand to his side, bidding Saphira to go before him. She snorted a puff of smoke in his face that had him burst into a coughing fit, before padding after her Rider. The bald man hurried after them, muttering under his breath all the way.

The dwarf watched all of this with a smirk that was not unnoticed by the others. He swiftly adjusted his expression to a more serious one as he faced the three prisoners.

"Lead them to the cells, but do _not _harm them. They are not prisoners _yet_. Not until they have been proven to be our enemy. Treat them with _respect_. Put them in the cell with the more… _comfortable_ arrangement"

The three of them stared at the dwarf curiously. He read the wariness in their eyes and raised a bushy brow.

"Unless of course you _want _to be thrown into our deepest, darkest dungeons?"

They shook their heads slightly. He nodded and then gestured the soldiers to lead them away.

"I will have someone come with food" he called out from behind.

His footsteps echoed noisily, as he scurried to catch up with Eragon, Saphira and the bald headed man.

Walking along this new tunnel, the space was wide enough for them to walk three abreast. Murtagh and Lia walked either side of Ella. They chose not to think about the spears pointed at their backs.

_We could probably take them_ Murtagh suggested lightly

_Yes…but at what cost?_ Lia replied, with a meaningful glance at Ella

From behind, they almost looked comical. Their arrangement went from the tallest person to the left, to the shortest on the right. It seemed illogical that they were protecting the girl in the centre, but the way they carried themselves suggested nothing less. Murtagh eyed Ella contemptuously for the briefest moment and then sighed inwardly. They were always looking out for _someone_. Some things really _did_ never change.

"To your right" a voice ordered them.

Stopping, they saw the empty cell and headed inside. Lia went first, followed by Ella and then Murtagh. The door was shut and locked behind them.

"We are at the end of the hall. It would be in your best interest _not _to try anything stupid" another voice stated, before the footsteps of the soldiers trudged away.

The cell was plain. Four stone walls, a medium-sized, uncomfortable looking cot against the far corner and an empty bucket. The only light came from a small, square, barred window in their door. Murtagh pressed his face to it and yelled.

"IT IS _VERY_ HOSPITABLE, BUT WE COULD DO WITH SOME WATER IF YOU PLEASE!"

Someone grumbled in response, but it sounded as if his request was being carried out. Although Lia's image wasn't clear, he could just about make out her arched brows.

"What was _that_?" she asked, feigning annoyance, but unable to hide her amusement.

He shrugged and grinned.

"The dwarf said that we were to be treated with respect. My request was not unreasonable"

"Did you want to ask for fresh linen? Maybe a hot bath? A candle perhaps?" she asked in a joking manner.

His face lit up at her last suggestion.

"AND A CANDLE PLEASE GOOD SIR!" he yelled once more.

There was another groan, followed by a cluttering noise as footsteps approached.

"Step _away_ from the door" the voice commended.

Lia and Ella were already standing by the back wall. Murtagh joined them and they watched as the door opened and a lit candle, pitcher of water and a bowl laden with three hard looking bread rolls and a generous hunk of cheese were placed on the floor. The door was shut and bolted once more, but the room was now dimly lit. The atmosphere was _almost_ a cosy one.

"A feast fit for Kings" Murtagh muttered wryly, as he threw a roll to each of the ladies and took one for himself.

Pulling the pitcher and candle into the centre of the cell, they sat around the small light and ate in silence. It was only when Ella's roll fell from her hand, that they noticed she had turned a shade of blue. Her eyelids began to flutter and she swayed to her side.

Diving across, Lia caught her before her head hit the stone floor. She lowered her to the ground and assessed what she was seeing. The girl was soaked to the bone. In the cold tunnels, she hadn't dried in the slightest since emerging from the water. She also appeared to be in some form of shock. The combination was potentially lethal. Running to the door, Lia bellowed as loud as she could.

"HELP! HELP!"

A man came scurrying down the hall. He eyed her suspiciously.

"What is wrong?"

"Ella! She is sick! You _must_ see to her!"

"How do I know this is not some _ruse_? We are under orders to keep you here. You _cannot_ move"

"_Damn it_ man! She could _die_?! Do you want her blood on your hands?!"

"I am not authorised to make any decisions"

"Could you not at least give her a _towel_?! A _dry robe_ to change into?! Is there no _fire_ that she could _warm_ herself by?!"

The man's eyes wandered as he thought. His expression was grim and he shook his head.

"I _cannot _let her go…but I _think_ I can meet your requirements"

Shrugging out of his long cloak, he passed it to her through the gap in the bars.

"I _will_ return" he promised and then he was gone.

Lia stared at the cloak in her hands, before throwing it to Murtagh, who caught it mid air.

"Hold that and _turn around_" she ordered

"She will need more than a cloak to save her" Murtagh stated solemnly, as he turned.

Ella's eyes were closed and she was suffering convulsions. Lia dropped to her knees and spoke encouraging words in the calmest, kindest voice that she could manage given her stress.

"Ella… Can you hear me? Ella… you are _fine_. Everything is _fine_. You are with _us_ and we _will_ take care of you, but I need you to help me. Can you lift your arms over your head?"

Ella's arms were clamped tightly around her chest; her teeth gritted together and her eyes squeezed shut, as wave after wave of shock and shivers seared through her entire body. She could barely hear a word for the roaring in her ears. She tightened herself into a ball to lessen the pain. She was no longer able to concentrate on anything else. She was dimly aware that someone had called her name, but she couldn't afford to listen.

Lia reached for Ella's arms and tried to move them. They refused to budge. Lia cursed loudly.

"_Murtagh!_ Help me get her out of these _bloody clothes_! She has gone into shock! I _cannot _do this alone!"

Murtagh dropped the cloak and knelt by Ella's other side. He rolled her onto her back. Lia straightened out her legs and sat on them to hold her still. Murtagh, who she had to admit was the strongest of them, reached for her arms and pulled.

"She's stronger than she looks" he commented.

Lia's brow puckered.

"Not _that_ strong" he assured her, as he prized her arms away from her chest and pulled them up, holding them over her head.

Lia moved forward and grabbed the bottom of Ella's shirt and pulled it up. Releasing his hold on her arms, one at a time, Lia was able to remove the upper half of her clothing.

Ella was losing her battle against herself. Everything was crushing down on her: the cold, being in a cell once more and the pain. She wanted to fight. Her body didn't. With each pathetically small beat of her heart, she slipped into a gradual, welcoming abyss.

Murtagh stiffened when he felt her go limp in his hold and uttered an urgent profanity. Lia's face blanched and she quickly removed Ella's trousers. Instinctively, the two of them swapped places. Lia took Ella's top half and Murtagh took the bottom. Without discussion, they began to rub, knead and massage her flesh in order to stimulate her circulation. Lia briefly stopped to rest two fingers against the side of Ella's neck. Muragh paused and waited for further instruction. She shook her head angrily and stared down at her friend in desperation.

"Her pulse is _terribly _weak…the beats are so few and far apart… I can barely tell that she is breathing…If they do not come _soon_… she –"

"She will _not _die. _We_ will _not_ let her," he said as he began to rub at her limbs more vigorously than before.

Lia too continued more desperately than before. She had promised her that they would take care of her and damn it, even if it took the two of them doing this _all_ night long, they _would _save her.

A few minutes passed and then they heard three arguing voices marching down the hall. They were too preoccupied to pay attention to what the voices said. Only when the door swung open did they stop what they were doing.

Murtagh grabbed for the cloak and threw it over their undressed colleague. Lia stayed crouched by her side. Murtagh stood, shielding them from view and glaring at the men.

Two stepped inside. One carried some metallic grate. The other carried an armful of small logs. The one that stood at the door threw a bundle to Murtagh. Examining it, he identified it as a clean, dry and simple robe. He dipped his head in thanks, but his expression remained cautious as he watched the two men inside their cell setting up what was obviously some temporary fireplace. The man who had carried the logs dropped them and joined his colleague blocking the door.

"We will get in trouble for this!" he warned the man who was lighting the fire.

"They will find the girl very _difficult_ to question if she is _dead_!" the man snapped back, as he produced a flint and tinder.

In the back of his mind, Murtagh felt Lia's gut wrench instinctively as she watched a fire being lit before her by someone other than herself. The fire took a few minutes to build up to an impressive state. When the man was satisfied, he rose, nodded at them once and left with the two other men without a further word.

When the door was locked once more, Lia pulled the cloak off Ella's still form and Murtagh helped move her beside the fire. They lay her on her side and rolled up the cloak into a makeshift pillow for her head. For now, they could only let the fire do its work. Clothing would only stop the warmth from reaching her skin.

Moving away from her to the farthest side of the room, they sat leaning against the wall. The cell was already much warmer. With this new source of light, they could see every inch of their confinement. They paid it no attention. Their eyes were fixed to the floor, trying not to think about whether their help had arrived too late.

Lia leaned further back against the wall and promptly jerked forward with a hiss of pain.

_What is wrong?_ Murtagh asked, concerned

_Nothing_

She tried to sound like she meant it.

_Turn around_ he ordered

Really, it is not important Will you just do as you are told for once?! 

She grumbled slightly as she shuffled away from the wall and turned to sit hugging her knees, with her back facing him.

_Bloody hell…_

_It is nothing_ she insisted

Yes it is. You are hurt 

_We are all hurt, in case you hadn't noticed_

_I for one do not look like a dragon tried to rake its claws through my back_

He reached out a tentative finger and touched a strip of her bloodied tunic. She winced and jerked forward once more. He glared at the back of her head and decided to act without her permission. He raised the back of her tunic, until it was rolled up above her shoulders. Her back and the wounds were exposed. Gently, he rested his hands either side of the gashes.

_Your hands are freezing!_ She complained

_Stop whining!_ He chided her

Moving his hands along her skin, he could feel where her flesh swollen dramatically around the edges of each tear in her skin.

Do not move 

He left her to fetch the pitcher of water. When he returned behind her, he delicately placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

Hold still. I need to clean the wound…if only a little… 

She braced herself. He let the water trickle down her back and gently wash away the traces of dirt from the cuts. She hissed a little from both the pain and the cold. When he was satisfied that he had done all that he could, he placed the jug on the floor and sat, stretching his legs out on either side of her. He went to pull her tunic back down, but his hands stayed on her shoulders. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips against her back and kissed a section that was warm, wet and unscathed. Her shiver then had nothing to do with the cold. He grinned and reached up to remove her tunic completely.

She grabbed his hands and wrapped them around her middle. Easing her tunic back down, she carefully leaned back, into his embrace. He lowered his head to mutter sarcastically into her ear.

"Let me guess… _tomorrow_?"

"It always seems another day away…" she replied with a bitter laugh.

Murtagh cast Ella a hesitant glance and continued to speak inside her mind.

_She is out cold! It will be hours before she wakes!_ He argued

_No_ she replied

_So what if she wakes?! She may learn something useful!_

He laughed, hoping that his persuasion skills were better than he thought.

_No_ she stated in a final tone

The one word was drowned in regret.

_Ugh… This is so frustrating!_ He moaned

_It is nice to know that you are more worried about a last chance to sleep with a woman than your survival_

_I am a man of principle_

He chuckled and rested his chin on top of her head. She scowled up at him.

_Do not speak that way! There is always hope, even if it only a fool's hope_

I suppose it would be hard to find two bigger fools 

He sighed and pulled her tighter to him when he felt her smile. She reached up a hand and touched his face. He kissed it and she patted his cheek affectionately.

_You humour me too much_ she pointed out, unimpressed

_It is true. What would you have me say? I will agree that there is always hope. But the truth is, we are now living on borrowed time. Eragon… helpful as he intended to be…brings us closer to our end. Once Ajihad sees me, our fate is sealed_

_Do you ever suspect that our fate was sealed from the moment we met?_

_All the time…_

_I have no regrets_

_Neither do I_

Lia saw the thought and smirk before he asked. The twitch of his fingers about to move made his intentions clear. She rolled her eyes and clamped her hands firmly on top of his. He dropped his head to her shoulder and buried his face against her neck; hiding the disappointment that was so intense, it was almost tangible.

_No_

Her voice was firm, but not unkind.

_You mean to tell me that all I just said did nothing to make you change your mind?!_

He wailed in her head.

_Absolutely nothing!_

She smirked.

You are a cold, heartless bitch, you know that? 

_To my very core_

The fact was stated proudly, before she continued on a more serious note.

_You may have buried us already, but I am hanging on until I now it is too late and you will just have to keep your hands under control until then!_

_Ugh!_

He sulked. She grinned. He said no more.

Ella could feel again. It had been dark for a long time. Now it was warm. The pain was gone, the shaking had stopped and all that she was left with now was the weariness. She could feel a fine sheen of sweat across her body. She felt oddly free, but too tired to open her eyes to see why. Movement was an off-putting thought, but it had to be done. It was heating up fast and she wanted to turn away from the heat, still be near it, but with her back to it instead. With a great effort, she rolled onto her other side. Why did the floor feel so distinct against her skin? It didn't matter; she was too tired to care. She suddenly remembered that she wasn't meant to be alone. Struggling against her determined lids, she opened them just enough to look ahead. Lying down, her view was wrong. The floor looked like a wall and sat beside it were Murtagh and Lia, who stared back at her, faces flooded with relief. Her brows knitted together, an expression that came naturally with no seeming effort involved at all. Opening her lips, her voice came out as a dry croak. It was weak, but it was filled with curiosity and humour.

"M – Murtagh… _w- why_ can I see your _arse_?"

His relieved expression dropped and his lips tightened. He opened his mouth to make a retort, but Lia elbowed him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Ella's lips curved into the smallest of smiles and she drifted into sleep. Before she lost all awareness she felt someone place a cloak over her.

"_Thank you_" she muttered gratefully. Then she was asleep.

Self consciously, Murtagh sat with his rear to the nearest wall by the fire. He removed his tunic to benefit from the warmth. After Lia had covered Ella, she lay out the wet clothes neatly by the fire, kissed Ella once on the brow and sat herself beside Murtagh, off whom she felt a twinge of jealousy.

_You look tired_ he commented

_I am exhausted_ she replied honestly

She rested her head against his arm and closed her eyes. Her back touched the wall by accident. She was quick to hide her wince, but Murtagh felt it anyway.

This is a bad position for your back. You should lie down 

She did not argue with him and bent to lower herself to the ground. Her tunic moved against her skin and she grimaced. He frowned at her.

_It needs to air. Wearing that filthy thing will not make it get better. Take it off_

He was right. Stretching her arms up high, he carefully pulled her tunic off, avoiding any contact to the wound. He threw the garment across the room. She gathered her hair over her shoulder, across her chest and then curled up into a ball beside him, with her back facing the fire. Muttering to himself, Murtagh pulled her shoulders off the ground, until her head was rested more comfortably on his lap. He picked up the robe that the men had left them and draped it across her front and shoulders, so that only her back was exposed. She shuffled closer to him until her forehead touched the warm, hard muscle of his stomach. He tucked the robe around her and she grinned.

_I feel like a child being mothered_

_Was your mother this attractive?_

_No. She was more attractive. But you will do_

_Why thank you_

_This is all rather…gentlemanly?_

_Well… heaven forbid Ella should wake, see you half naked and assume that we had been misbehaving_ he stated sourly

_Heaven forbid_ she agreed with a light kiss to his stomach

He started to stroke her hair. The comforting motion and the warmth of the flames and his body began to send her drifting.

_Will you not sleep?_ She asked sleepily

_Not yet…_

_Are you not weary?_

_More than you could know…_

_But I do know. I can feel it_

_It was a figure of speech Lia…_

_Do not stay awake for too long. You will need your strength for tomorrow. We need to be ready_

_Sleep my lady_

It was all he could bring himself to reply.

We will think of something my good sir…we always do… 

Smiling weakly at her ever present confidence, he kissed the top of her head.

_Goodnight Lia_

_Goodnight_

She was asleep before she knew it. Murtagh watched her sleep, until he could no longer keep his own lids from slipping shut. Soon, all three were fast asleep on the floor. The cot remained untouched.

Eragon had only marched ahead of everyone for a limited time. He eventually had to put his pride aside and admit to that he didn't have a clue where he was headed, so he slowed his pace and the bald headed brute overtook him without comment. The dwarf who had temporarily stayed behind on account of taking care of Murtagh, Lia and Ella had been quick to catch up with them. Even now, his short legs matched the long strides of the bald man with ease. Eragon thanked his months of travelling on foot. Without all the exercise, he would have lagged behind and panted like a dog and it would _not_ have shone a good light on him as their future saviour. As it was, even _with_ all his training, he could feel a stitch forming in his side. The mountain was huge! He thought of the people living within and having to make this journey on a daily basis. The thought _alone _made him weary. Did this tunnel ever come above ground? When would he next see the sky?

The bald man stopped, cocking his head to the side, as if he had heard something interesting and then folded his arms and turned. He was perfectly still, but a breeze was touching his robes. It was a hopeful sight. The dwarf stared up at the man with a frown. When he spoke, his tone was not one respect. Eragon doubted that the two of them worked together unless absolutely necessary.

"Well?!" the dwarf demanded.

The bald man gave him an icy look, clearly unappreciative of the use of this tone in front of others. His answer was directed to Eragon.

"You will not be seeing Ajihad tonight. There is a war coming and we are holding a meeting. He will meet with you tomorrow afternoon. He wishes me to attend the meeting on behalf of my people and to discuss what is to be done with you. I have been asked to pass on the knowledge that Arya is fully healed, but currently resting. Apparently she wishes to speak with you in the morning. Until such time that you are called for, you are to stay inside your accommodation. Orik here shall show you where it lies and will send someone to wake you in the morning. You should find the room fully equipped to meet both yours and Saphira's needs. Until tomorrow Rider, I bid you farewell"

The bald man gave Orik a sour look, before marching ahead of them around a bend in the tunnel. Then he was gone. Orik started walking. Eragon and Saphira followed eagerly to see what lay around the corner. When they turned the bend, they felt a cool, crisp wind blowing towards them and they could see the opening. Slowly, they stepped out into the night air. They gazed up at the sky and smiled; it was good to be back in the open. The dwarf did not seem to care one way or the other.

They were standing in the tunnel entrance looking out on a large clearing where many small houses had been built. It was like a small, secret village. There were a few lamps lit and some smoke rising from the chimneys, but all the homes were shut and dark. Eragon was confused. He looked down at Orik.

"How long were we inside the mountain?"

"Half a day at the least. The hour is late"

"You all live here?"

"The humans live here in the village. The dwarves and folk of higher importance live in Farthen Dur"

The dwarf gestured his head up ahead. Eragon followed his eyes and could only make out the face of the mountain. It was too dark to make anything out. Orik sighed.

"You cannot appreciate its beauty in the dark. Wait until the morning. I shall wake you and give you a brief tour. I sincerely doubt that you shall have time for anything else"

"Where do we stay?"

"Up there"

Orik pointed a short, thick, stumpy finger up high, somewhere that looked near the top of the mountain.

"All the way up _there_?" he asked incredulously

"You have a _dragon_, do you not?" the dwarf asked, as if he could not see the problem.

"Yes I do… but how will anyone be able to reach me _otherwise_?"

"You shall see" Orik chuckled.

His laugh was like a deep rumble; there was something pleasant about it and Eragon found that he was warming to the stranger. 

"Go now Rider. The people are not ready to meet you, not yet. Rest well. I shall come fetch you in the morning"

"Thank you"

"Sleep well Rider and dragon"

"_Saphira_, if you please" Eragon asked as politely as he could, whilst Saphira hissed in a less polite manner.

"Saphira" the dwarf corrected with a small bow. The move was not done derisively, so Saphira did not take offence from the action.

Climbing onto Saphira's back for the first time in a long time, they felt as one. She leapt into the air and Eragon savoured the wind that whipped against his face. How he missed this! The flight was not long enough. Saphira was quick to find the outcrop that protruded from the cave that they were meant to find.

Landing softly, Eragon slipped from her saddle and crept forward, not knowing what to expect. The cave was obviously for Saphira and as he moved further, the back of the cave twisted around a bend, protecting the interior from the elements and they were presented with a large room. The room was simple and yet beautiful at the same time. A bed lay in the corner. It looked very comfortable. There was a fireplace that was already lit and a large, steaming barrel filled with hot water. There was a towel and some clean clothes. There was also a tray with food for him and a curious, large bundle that lay against the wall.

Saphira's eyes brightened and she hurtled past him towards it. She disposed of the cloth, ripping it to shreds with her teeth and wolfed down whatever had been on the inside. When she turned to look at him, her muzzle was tinted with blood.

_I changed my mind…these Varden folk certainly know how to please a dragon_

He smiled at her sudden change in mood and then shuddered. He had not realised how cold he was. He pulled off his tunic and sat himself by the fire. Saphira licked her lips and lay herself behind him. He leaned backwards and let her warm scales heat his back, whilst the fire warmed his front. He closed his eyes. All the stress of the day had finally caught up with him. He took a few steadying breaths. Saphira moved her head and gently nuzzled his cheek with her nose. He kissed it and smiled weakly.

_I am proud of you Little One_

_It was harder than I thought_

_But you handled it perfectly_

_Did I? … Then why are my friends in a cell whilst I sit in a comfortable room?_

_You cannot think about that tonight. Tomorrow we will do what we can for them. You must not worry about them_

_I will try…at least they are together… that makes me feel much better_

_So it should_

_All the same, I shall sleep much better if you could reach out for Lia and make sure that they are well?_

Saphira's head swung away from his and he felt her sudden change in temper.

_I am afraid that will not be possible_

_Why?_

_She has blocked me out_

The offence in her voice was distinct. Eragon tried to think of ways to comfort her, but he could not. He thought for a moment about Lia and why she would do such a thing and he nodded. He understood.

_She has to Saphira_

_But why does she have to block me?_

She sounded deeply affronted that he did not side with her.

_She knows Murtagh's secret_

When he said it, he did not feel bothered in the least. It was hardly surprising that he had told her. He was positive that they had no secrets between them.

_What does that mean?_ Saphira pondered

_It does not matter_. _I do not care anymore. They helped us Saphira. My words in the tunnels were my own. If Lia is doing what she thinks will keep them alive, then I support her, even if it means excluding us from her mind_

_Very well _

She agreed with his words, although the bitter edge still crept in her voice.

_What about Ella?_ He suggested

That could work… 

Together, they reached for Ella's mind. It took a few minutes to locate her because she was buried deep inside the mountain. Her thoughts and feelings were hazy, but wherever she was, she felt comfortable and safe. They could only guess that this was because the three of them were alive and well. Withdrawing from her mind, they tried to settle into the comfort of the room. Saphira swayed her head towards the inviting looking bed.

_Sleep Little One…The bed looks warm and I cannot even remember the last time you slept in one_

_Teirm_ he answered automatically

That long? 

He nodded.

_Then why stay on the floor?_

_I do not want to become accustomed to something that will undoubtedly not be there for long. Why should I torment myself?_

_It is not wrong to enjoy moments when opportunities arise_

_No. I will stay on the floor. _

_Have it your way_

_My way would have ended today a little differently…_

_Sleep Eragon_

He closed his eyes and turned his face to her side, huddling up against her. He thought of the steaming bath, but found that he was suddenly too tired to move.

_Good night Saphira_

_Good night Little One_

Sleep found him quickly. Saphira's lids drooped shut shortly afterwards. They slept and their bodies and minds subconsciously prepared them for the next day.

The meeting was adjourned. The designated hall was empty, but for the bald headed man who remained in its centre, pacing back and forth. The meeting had been long and heated. The human and dwarf representatives had talked of nothing but the Rider and what it would mean to the peace that existed between the races. After their bickering had ceased, they discussed what to do with the boy in the morning. They wished to test his abilities – to see how far advanced he was in his training, both physical and mental. They spoke of involving Arya somehow. He had volunteered to take charge of the trials and arrangements. He wanted to see the results of the tests first hand and influence them where possible. But whilst he had listened to this endless talk, his mind had never wandered past the young man and woman held in the cell. Now was the perfect time to discover more about them, whilst they remained forgotten. His time was short. He would need to find a way to gather information. There was much he wanted to find out; the source of the young man's power, whether the girl possessed any of her own and if he could find out neither…how he could gain vengeance for the humiliation he had undergone. The bald man was not one to forget or forgive easily.

He sensed her rather than saw her. The lighting had been dimmed now that the people were gone and shadows danced around the edges of the hall. He should have guessed that she would be there, hiding and listening. Curious, intelligent, beautiful and mysterious…_yes_…maybe _she_ was the one he could use? She would not refuse him, she would not dare. Her own curiosity was too great. She would not be able to resist. It was what made her a valuable addition to his kind and also a potentially dangerous weapon. They were lucky to have made claims on her when she stumbled upon them as a small child. He did not bother to turn his head. When he called she would come. He whispered in a soft, seductive tone.

"_Erika…_"

He turned ever so slightly. She was already behind him, having crossed the length of the hall in mere seconds. He caught the blur of movement from the corner of his eye. Amazing. Their experiments on her had been fruitless and she had endured many. During the ten years since she had joined them, they had never discovered the natural source of her power. His face contorted with rage for the most fleeting of moments as the fact was brought to his attention once more. There was nothing that brought sleepless nights like an unsolved mystery and she had been one of them for many a year. They had stopped the experiments; they called it a "temporary" break in their research. _He _called it "giving up". They had to face the fact that they would _never_ know everything about her. They could have killed her…feigned an accident…but the truth was that she was simply too useful to waste…for the _moment_. He composed himself and presented her with an almost loving smile.

"Erika my dear…I have a job for you"


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Eragon's hand rested on the door handle. He waited. He had been stood like this for some time. Just waiting. Waiting for his courage to return. He knew that he had to move. He could not stay here forever. The bedroom, which had once been his safe haven, was now tainted by the memory of his previous visit. This time he was alone, but he found no comfort in his solitude. Carefully, turning the handle, the door was opened a crack.

Peeking through the gap, he braced himself for the inevitable assault that never came; the hall was empty. The quiet implied that no one was waiting for him, or that they waited with utmost patience. The risk had to be taken. He sighed as he acknowledged that at least when he received the killing blow, he would be awake, even if he awoke with a cry lodged in his throat. Stepping out into the hallway, he did not try to close the door behind him with care. On the contrary, he slammed it rather hard. If he made enough noise, perhaps the attack would come early and he could leave this place. This place in his dreams that he had once considered his home, these dream which he used to savour and enjoy. There was nothing left for him here anymore. What had once been a glimpse of heaven had turned into his personal hell. Stomping noisily across the landing and down each step, he had to accept that he would find no release here. The house was well and truly empty. There was no need for him to wander the house and check all the rooms. He could feel it in the air. This house was now uninhabitable.

As he opened the door, sunlight spilled through and he was able to see the dust particles floating thick in the air. It was a relief to step outside, into the fresh air and away from that, which was so familiar to him, yet hurt him so badly. He began to walk without thinking where he was headed. He did not turn around. This was his form of farewell; never intending to return to this place ever again.

Following his feet, he began to recognise the unmarked path that they had always followed, Roran and he. He was heading towards his place, their place. Suddenly the emptiness of the house and his decision to leave it all behind seemed no mere coincidence. This was what he was meant to do, where he was meant to walk. He started the gradual ascent up the hill, already knowing whom he would find on top, waiting for him. Instead of fear or rejoice, he felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe after the last place that had meant anything to him in his previous life was scarred by a new, violent memory, these dreams would truly end. He sincerely hoped that would be the case.

Slowing his pace, he tried at least to enjoy the beautiful view, the gentle breeze and the smell of the farm, one last time. He crested the hill and there, sat with his back to him, was Roran. His cousin showed no indication that he had heard his approach, although he must have. As he grew closer, Roran's head turned a fraction to the side. He made no other movement. Eragon knew what he had to do. Calmly, he strolled towards his cousin and seated himself by his side. Crossing his legs and arranging himself to be more comfortable, his arm brushed against Roran's own and he felt a stab of pain at the casual touch that reminded him of the days of old.

Roran stiffened but did not attack, yet. It was close though. He could not bring himself to look at Eragon; he only glared ahead at the barren land that now existed where Carvahall had once been. One arm was draped across his lap; the other was tense at his side. He was holding onto something, probably the knife, Eragon thought to himself. He watched his cousin's expression darken, as every second in his presence passed. He didn't say a word. What was there to say? He saw Roran's muscles tense and did not flinch when the arm swung at him, wielding the knife that he had known was there all along.

He closed his eyes before he could see the full extent of his cousin's rage. He would much rather hold onto the one simple memory; seeing him sat there when he had first approached. The picture brought no sorrow and appeared almost normal. He waited for the icy cold when the blade would sink into him. He waited and found himself fed up of waiting. Had he woke already without knowing it? Was Roran waiting for him to open his eyes? Why had he not been attacked yet? The reply to his question came as a strangled sob. He felt his cousin's sobs rack through him, as his body shook beside him. How could he leave him this way? How could he not try and comfort the only family he had left?

Opening his eyes, he gazed at Roran sadly. He had only seen his cousin like this the once, when his own mother had died. It had been painful to watch then. To know that the tears were falling now because of him made his guilt all the worse. He fervently wished that he had been stabbed. Being forced to endure this sigh was too much. Even physical pain would have hurt less. He watched as his cousin pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and rested his forehead against them, as his cries progressed into near hysteria. Still gripped tightly in one of his fists was the knife.

Eragon resisted the urge to snatch the blade and use it against himself. This was the final penance he would pay for the sins that he was unsure whether he had really committed. Roran turned his face toward him and Eragon stared into the bloodshot, puffed up, streaming eyes and forced himself not to look away. Roran's sobs subsided until he was merely breathing heavily with the occasional sniffle. He let the knife slip from his hand and eyed it in disgust. When he spoke, his voice was cutting.

"I cannot do this. I cannot try to kill you anymore. It is too easy. Why should you receive an easy end? There is no pain in death and what little there is, is not enough. You took my life away Eragon. There is nothing left for me to live for, only one hope and that hope is so slim, I struggle to picture it every morning that I wake. Because of you my father is dead, my lover was taken and our village was annihilated. Death is too swift a punishment for _you_."

Unsure why, Eragon reached into his pocked and took out the ring and placed it onto the grass before his cousin. They both stared down at the small, silver band and watched the sunlight glint off its edges. A pained look passed across Roran's face at the reminder of Katrina. A hardened expression and a determined setting of his jaw soon replaced it. With a finger, he nudged it towards Eragon.

"_Keep_ it"

"Why? It is yours"

"Keep it so that I will always be able to find you"

The blood drained from Eragon's face at the implications of that statement. Did his cousin plan to haunt his dreams forever? Reading his face, Roran rolled his eyes; a gesture that seemed too casual considering the seriousness of the moment.

"Not _here_ cousin" he groaned, sounding slightly exasperated.

To make his point, he pointed a finger upwards and jabbed it towards the skies, whilst giving him a look that showed that he had expected Eragon to grasp the meaning of his words a little quicker than he was demonstrating.

"Up _there_. Wherever _there_ is", he muttered, sounding mystified by the thought.

"You will not find me... Where I am... I am unable to reveal my location… Believe me when I say that I wish nothing more than to close this rift between us… But I cannot tell you where I am," Eragon replied, trying not to sound like he was making excuses.

He wasn't. Dream or no dream, he wanted to make amends with his cousin, but he could not betray the Varden. Roran met his words with a conspiring smile that did not touch his eyes.

"Oh don't you worry about that cousin. We _will_ meet again. One way or another, I _will_ find you and you _will_ pay the price for what you have done. You _will_ help me find Katrina or I _will_ fight you"

"I _never_ wish to fight you", Eragon said in earnest.

"Nor I you. For long now, I have wanted _more_, but no matter which way I try to hate you cousin and right now I _do_ hate you with a fiery passion, you are _it_. _All_ I have _left_. Your treacherous existence is the _only_ family I have left and it brings bile to the back of my throat at the very thought! But by the blood that runs through your veins, you are _obliged_ to help me. You _must_. I do _not_ want it, but I _cannot_ do this alone. You must! You must help me!" he pleaded angrily.

How could he deny his cousin? Even if he were never forgiven, he would do whatever he could to change the look in those eyes when they rested upon him.

"I will help you. When you find me, I will fulfil my duty to my family", he solemnly promised.

At his words, fresh, angry, determined tears coursed down his cousin's face. Nodding angrily, accepting his words, Roran turned his head away from him for the last time.

"Until we meet again…" he responded in a bitter voice.

"Aye", was all Eragon could reply.

Taking one last long, hard look at the fierce young man beside him, Eragon rose to his feet and walked away. There was no where left to visit, no place for him here anymore. Every direction he faced presented a hostile memory. Ignoring his house, the hill and where Carvahall had once been, he headed for the last place he expected and the first place where his new life had begun. He headed toward the dark forest that was The Spine.

Murtagh stretched his stiff and tense muscles with a groan. He yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, before opening them to face the morning and whatever it brought. He was alone. Springing to his feet, he ran to the door; it was closed, but unlocked. This was all very wrong. Why would they take Ella and Lia, but leave him? And more importantly why would they leave the door open for him to escape? How had he even remained asleep through all of this? He was a light sleeper! If anyone had even approached their cell in the night, he would have known.

Scrunching his eyes shut, he kneaded his temples furiously. Then he realised that he could still sense Lia; she seemed close and yet very far away. His hands returned to his sides and he immediately relaxed. Of course, this was just another dream. He had been foolish to think otherwise. Knowing that he was asleep, he pushed open the door. As long as he knew that this was a dream, there was no harm in indulging in this opportunity to look around. Maybe somewhere in his subconscious, he had compiled a mental map of their journey here. Maybe if he could find the way out once more, it would aid their escape, if they ever _did_ escape. Contrary to Lia's optimism, he was almost certain that they would die here. However, whilst there was an "_almost_", there was still reason to try and hope.

Stepping into the empty hallway, he stopped and listened. As soon as he took this precautionary measure, he pulled a face. What was the point? This was a dream! He didn't have to worry about such trivial things as his own safety. If something _did_ try to attack him, Lia would wake him, he would look down to see her face and would be able to find some peace in this difficult time.

Common sense, whether it was applicable in this situation or not, told him to head down the hall and toward the tunnel through which they had come. So why did he force himself to turn the other way? According to the dwarf's words, further down the hall led to the dungeons. Some morbid curiosity made him want to take a look. Shaking his head, he changed his mind. He would do better going the other way. Mid turn, he stopped as his ears picked out the sounds of voices. The voices were faint, there were two of them, so identical that he considered the possibility that it was a madman conversing with himself and wherever these voices came from, it was behind him.

Exhaling deeply, he cursed his curiosity, before creeping towards the direction of the dungeons. At the end of the hallway was a stone staircase, presenting steep steps that were crudely chiselled and worn. Quietly, he descended the stairs and listened to the sound of the voices, as they became more and more distinct. They were having a discussion. It was definitely two people; one person could not interrupt one self.

"I wonder, where does it lie?" one asked.

"You could just tell us?" the other suggested.

"Now, now, there is no need to glare," the other chided pleasantly.

Someone or something grumbled back at them in a muffled voice. So there were three people, one of which was being interrogated.

"We are tired of waiting"

"Tell us how or you leave us no choice"

There was a muffled grunt in response to their words. Murtagh did not need to understand what the prisoner had said, to know that the single noise translated as, "Go to hell". He smiled grimly, feeling a surge of respect for whoever it was. He wondered how he would have ever fared under interrogation? This only sounded like the beginning. The pain was yet to come. Would the prisoner's resolve cave in when a finger was removed or an eye seared out? He winced at the thought, but felt compelled to know how this tale would end. He reached the bottom of the stairs. Before him lay a small corridor and a stone chamber ahead. Already, he could see the owner of one of the voices. The sight did not surprise him. It was the bald headed bastard that they had humiliated the night before. Somehow it made sense that should new villain appear in his dreams, it would be him.

"Very well… scalpel?" he asked calmly.

He saw an identical hand reach out to pass the bald man the sharp, surgical instrument that he had requested.

"I am afraid that as you will not explain about your friend's or your own abilities, we will have to find out for ourselves", he said, sounding regrettable.

"Should we give her something to keep her… stable?" the other asked cautiously.

"No… she may decide to change her mind and talk if her senses are not dulled"

"I am not sure that she will stay conscious for long enough and there is also the screaming"

"I am bored of her stubbornness. I want to know what lies inside…" he said as he reached forward, scalpel raised with eager eyes.

_She_? _Her_? The prisoner was a _girl_? A girl willing to die to defend her friend. He did not want to make the connection, but the facts were there, staring him in the face. Before he could stop himself, he broke into a run, but not before hearing an unmistakable, muffled scream and the strangest slopping sound. _Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream_, he chanted in the back of his mind. Reaching the end of the corridor, he staggered to a halt, clutching at the sides of the stone wall for support. It was she, who else could it have been? Lia. His throat closed so instantly, he began to choke.

It was as though the air; the life had been sucked out of him. Hanging there by her shackled wrists, she hung limply. He felt his stomach ready itself to rid of its' contents. From chest to groin, she had been sliced open. The cut had sent half of her entrails to hang from her and the other to spill across the floor. At the sight of her dying eyes and lips that bubbled with blood, he vomited so violently that he collapsed, retching on all fours, but his eyes never left her face. Her last movement was the painfully slow rolling of her eyes. They landed on his and then stopped, staring, dead and unseeing. A hoarse cry ripped from his throat, as he staggered forward to her.

"**NO! NO! NO! LIA! NO!**"

The bald headed man nudged her intestines on the floor with a foot and shook his head in disappointment.

"Nothing. Empty", he proclaimed sadly.

The other bald man noticed Murtagh for the first time and smiled in a wide, welcoming smile.

"Ah… here is the cause of our troubles!"

"Now it is _your _turn"

He heard their words, but they meant nothing. Nothing had meaning anymore; nothing mattered. All that had ever mattered to him was dangling, dead and mutilated before his very eyes. The two bald men stepped into his path, stopping him from reaching all that had ever been worth living for. Two sets of hands restrained him as he tried to break through and began to drag him away. He was helpless; they were too strong and he was being pulled away. The one word tore from his lips again and again, his voice becoming cracked and painful, but he wouldn't stop. It didn't matter that she couldn't hear him anymore. He didn't care that it made no sense. Nothing made sense any more.

"**LIA! LIA! LIA!**" he screamed.

He continued to scream out, until everything went black and he bolted upright, awake, panting and with a cry lodged in his throat. His sudden movement caused Lia to shift position in her sleep. She had been lying on her back, but she turned into him once more, her nose skimming a line across his stomach as she made herself comfortable.

Watching her with wide, frightened eyes, he had never been so happy to see her. She was peaceful; she was alive. He swallowed back the yell that had been waiting to escape. There was nothing to fear; it had just been a dream. He wondered what time it was? There was no way to discern night from day in this place. As he thought, his eyes never left her face; he even resisted the need to blink. If it meant that he had his eyes off her for a second, he wasn't sure that he could handle it. It had been a nightmare, but it had scared him more than any other he had ever had. He didn't care what time it was or how long he would have to wait; he would stare at her until she opened her eyes. Until he could look into them and see that they were filled with life, because he wanted nothing more than to be rid of that final memory.

With careful fingers, he stroked her hair and watched as she smiled in her sleep. The sight warmed him inside. Brushing his lips against her brow, he was glad that at least _she_ was not plagued with bad dreams. He would use this time alone to clear his head. This was one nightmare he could _never _share with her. It was too painful to remember and it would probably frighten her. Or would it? She was the more rational one. She would argue that it was only a dream and that there were more pressing matters at hand that deserved their immediate concern and she would be right, as always. Still, he could not shift this sudden wave of paranoia that something bad was going to happen to her.

At that moment, he made a promise that he would never let her out of his sight again. If anything were to happen to her and he wasn't there to stop it… He shuddered at the thought. It didn't matter that it seemed insane and obsessive; he had made the promise to himself and she would never need to know. For all that she could guess; his behaviour could be tied to their pact. He supposed in a way that it _was_ directly linked to their promise to each other, but this was _his_ secret and one he intended to keep. Settling back as comfortably as he could, he trained his eyes on her face and was pleased to note that all tiredness had left him. He would sit, he would watch and he would wait. She was more important than sleep. He sighed in contentment. Whilst they remained alive, he would protect her. His decision was final.

Ella was walking down the country path and it was a sunny, beautiful day. Sunlight seeped through the branches of the tall trees and touched her face; it really _was_ a pleasant day. She didn't know where she was going, but she didn't mind if wherever it was involved sticking to this scenic and peaceful route. Being lulled into such a sense of ease and relaxation, after a while, she was surprised to see a fork in the road up ahead. Her brow creased slightly; she was in no mood to deviate from the path that she was currently on. Her flare in temper seemed uncalled for and she took a calming breath and tried to look at things constructively. She would examine each path and take whichever one was the more appealing.

What should have taken a few minutes had taken a few seconds. One moment she was walking, the next, she was there. Ignoring how she had been able to accomplish such an impossible feat, she took to examining the paths. Her attention was immediately drawn to the path on her right, the _right_ path. It was beautiful in every way; the colours, scents and sounds were inviting and to make it all the more obvious that it was the correct path for her to take, Eragon stood in the distance. His face was too far to be clear, but she could see that he was laughing and beckoning her towards him. That was nearly all that it took, but Ella liked to think that she was fair and despite having already made up her mind, she cast a quick glance to the path to her left. The quick glance turned into a stare. This path was different in every way.

A cold wind seemed to blow through it, the sounds of the wildlife that existed there prickled her fear and the trees were tall, twisted, bare and sinister, but for all that, it was not why she was unable to tear away her gaze. There, at the far end, with her back facing her was Lia, and she was utterly alone in that place. Though her stance was brave and defiant, it seemed wrong that she stood with no one by her side.

What had once been an easy decision was now impossible. Her head whipped from left to right, back and forth, again and again. Where should she go? Eragon was happily waiting for her, but unsure why, she felt as if Lia needed her. The easiest solution would have been to call to Eragon so that they could both go and aid their friend or at least pull her back onto the pleasant path.

As she considered the option, a chilly wind ruffled her hair from the path to her right and from where she stood, she saw Eragon's head move from side to side. It was a clear dismissal; the gesture angered her. How could he be so unreasonable? Fuming, she could feel her feet urging her to go left. Taking a deep breath, she made her decision. Sitting down with her back to the both of them, she faced the sunny path down which she had come.

Why did she have to choose between the sister she had never had and the boy who she loved in her own way? Stubbornly, she folded her arms; they would not make her chose. She could feel Eragon's pleading eyes boring into the back of her. From Lia, there was nothing. Somehow, her silence was even harder to endure. Refusing to be swayed by either side, she remained seated. It was her decision and she decided that she would sooner not move an inch, than be forced to chose between the two. Glaring ahead, she ignored the both of them.

Saphira was dreaming; she had never had a dream before. Contrary to what others suspected, what she saw in her sleep were not figments of her imagination, they were facts. Each night, another piece of the history of her kind was added to her vast memory. She saw things through the eyes of her predecessors and learned much; it was one of the reasons she was so much wiser than her years. This however, was a dream.

She knew it was a dream firstly, because she was herself and secondly, because the scene was so utterly ludicrous that it held no place in their reality. They were gliding over the trees that encroached on the Beors and she was not alone. It was not just herself and her Rider, there were two others. The first was one whose presence she could almost understand, the second made no sense whatsoever, but it did not change the fact that Eragon, Lia and Murtagh were all riding upon her back. She could barely feel their weight. In a strange way, it felt comfortable, as if in this dream world, this arrangement made perfect sense.

Eragon clung to the spine at the base of her neck, as he always did. Lia sat with both her legs swung over her one side, like a lady riding a horse side-saddle; her balance was perfect. Murtagh sat behind her, riding backwards and facing her tail end, completely at ease. It was a curious combination. All three were silent, perfectly at ease with where they were and yet they all faced a different direction. Regardless of their being together, they appeared unaware of the other two and deep in thought. Saphira, too baffled to interrupt their individual reveries, decided to drift into some wool gathering of her own.

So this was what it was like to dream? What a thoroughly pointless waste of time! What purpose did such meaningless visions serve? Through Eragon's vague explanation, she roughly understood that dreams were mostly derived from both conscious and subconscious thought. That made sense to her and she tried to analyse why she was seeing what she was seeing. She had been pining for her Rider all day and both Murtagh and Lia had irritated her enough to plague her mind. With this brief conclusion, she hummed to herself contentedly. Whilst she was here, she may as well see what she could do. The lake below looked haunting in the moonlight; it was too inviting an opportunity to pass up. Without consulting or warning her passengers, she tucked in her wings and took the plunge.

When she emerged from the water, she was pleasantly surprised by how real it had all felt. She was not surprised in the least that those who had rode her were no where in sight. Dreams were like that, or so she had heard, completely random and unpredictable. Wading to the edge of the lake, she climbed out and lay herself close to the water. For the moment, she felt content. Lowering her head, she drank deeply, wondering if it would revive her from her sleep. The water was cool and refreshing and she savoured the moment with closed eyes. When her giant lids opened, she stared down at her reflection.

The most curious thing was happening; she appeared to be changing colour. At first she had been her sapphire blue, but next she had turned ruby red, then black as onyx, gold as the sun, emerald green and then a murky grey. Once she had witnessed the cycle, she was staring back at herself once more. She blinked. Maybe there was something in this mountain air that was causing her to have these nonsense dream hallucinations. She shook her head, feeling mildly irritated. Patiently, she rested her head on her paws and waited for the dream to end. If this was what humans had to endure night after night, she wasn't envious in the least. What a waste of what would have otherwise been an educational and productive night! Snorting in disapproval, she shut her eyes and willed herself awake.

Here she was again. She knew this place. It hadn't changed much since her last visit. She was back, trapped inside the square corridor, except this time, there were no doors, no voices and no possible way of escape. It should have terrified her, it should, have sent her over the edge. It did no such thing. Lia sat down comfortably, with her back against one of the four identical walls and smiled to herself. She didn't care how long she had been trapped here or how much longer she would have to wait, she knew that outside this place, she was not alone. She would never be alone again. Whether they lived to see another day or not, she would always have him by her side. She grinned up at the ceiling, knowing that somewhere up above where her body lay, she was resting in the embrace of her partner.

Orik led the way down the steep stairwell with the countless steps. Despite the walk being downhill, Eragon still found it increasingly difficult keeping up with the dwarf's fast pace. His legs already felt like they had turned to jelly and his cheeks burned with shame at the fact that this was hardly as strenuous as what must have been the trek upward. He had been too embarrassed to ask the dwarf how long the journey had taken. He only assumed that it hadn't taken as long as he might have thought, as Orik showed no sign of any strain. They had been walking for a long while now. He had lost count of both steps taken and spirals descended and when he dared to look down, it looked as though there was no end.

When the dwarf had come to wake him, he had been fast asleep. Leaping up, wanting to seem eager, he had gently nudged Saphira awake, whilst Orik patiently waited outside. It was the strangest start to the morning. Saphira had woken to the foulest of moods, ranting about dreams being the most unnecessary torture to be inflicted upon intelligent beings. Eragon has listened and agreed with every word. He personally wished that he would never dream again, however her attitude had thrown him into a state of unease. He had never seen her so irate over something many would have considered so petty. With the briefest of parting lines, she had leapt off the lee and into the sky to hunt for her self. After she had gone, he had joined Orik on the top of the staircase.

"We are nearly there Rider and Arya awaits you", the dwarf informed him.

Orik's statement broke through Eragon's thoughts and sent his heart racing. He was so nervous that he could feel his palms dampen with sweat. He hoped that she would not wish to shake his hand! Arya. The elf. It was so difficult for him to think of her as anything else. Whilst she had once been the image that had haunted his dreams, since they had found her, she had merely existed as an object. Where she had once captured him with her with her still, unusually beautiful form, he had since been besotted by a certain female to whose cell he had been secretly adjoined.

What would she look like awake and standing? He had stopped paying her attention a long time ago, as she had slowly became a thing to be carried rather than a person to be cared for. Realising this, he felt a surge of guilt, before reminding himself that had they not found her and brought her here, she would surely be dead.

Mulling over his thoughts, he almost stumbled as his foot reached to find another step and instead, met flat ground. Tripping ever so slightly, he bumped into the back of Orik who stiffened, before chuckling to himself. They had stopped. Before them lay a long, stone hallway, with beautifully carved designs that decorated the walls and ceiling. Every few paces, passages branched off from it, leading elsewhere. From the very first passage to their left, stepped a tall and strikingly beautiful blonde female. She was slender and perfectly proportioned. She took his breath away and yet, for all the gaping that was unavoidable, he still found himself picturing Ella in the back of his mind.

"It is nice to finally meet you Rider", she said in a pleasant voice.

Her voice was musical and filled with both gratitude and wariness; it was understandable, he too felt his discomfort rising. Orik shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly, before mumbling something so low that Eragon could barely hear, but which made Arya at first frown and then laugh. The dwarf nodded a farewell and then scurried down the hall and out of sight. Arya smiled down at the Rider. He stared up at her, cursing the fact that all of a sudden, everyone was so bloody tall. Motioning to the passage from which she had emerged, she gestured Eragon forward.

"Come Rider, I have been drugged for too long. Tell me everything that has happened since you were foolish enough to rescue me and your tale, if you would be generous enough to tell it"

He considered her words. She thought him foolish for saving her? Others had thought him that and much more for the action, but he had at least expected some form of thanks from her. Then again, she had said her words kindly, almost jokingly, as if they were friends of old. However he had imagined her, he had never imagined her to be like this. She had an air of importance about her and something that resembled arrogance, but was too subtle to really place. He plucked up the courage to gaze into her eyes, which were bright, eager, kind and also very wise. He would not take offence at her words, he would tell her what she needed to know. Eragon nodded the once in assent and she led the way to a private room. Once the door was closed, he commenced their tale.

Ella began to stir. She reached a hand up to rub at her eyes, when she was distinctly aware of the scratchy feeling as the cloak moved against her bare skin. Her bare skin?! She was _naked_?! Her eyes shot open and she bit down on the insides of her lips as she desperately tried to remember some fact that may explain _why _she wasn't wearing any clothes. _Think, think,_ she begged of herself. The last thing she remembered was seeing Murtagh and Lia looking at her from a curious angle and something about Murtagh's behind? _That_ wasn't helpful! What else was there? She tried to think further back. Her last, clear memory was getting ready to eat. After that, there was nothing. Against her better judgement, she risked a peek behind her. Lia was curled up, asleep, with her head on Murtagh's lap. Murtagh was awake and staring intently at his fellow warrior. The sight comforted her, but it did not answer her question and she could not quite find the bottle to ask.

Murtagh caught the movement in his peripheral vision. The blanketed mound that was Ella had moved. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning Ella", he greeted her quietly.

His voice was just above a whisper, but Ella heard him clearly enough.

"Morning", she mumbled back at him.

"You went into shock," he answered her unasked, but obvious question.

"Oh…" her single, brief response.

There was something about this fact that did not make her feel better in the least. In fact, she felt worse. She had gone into shock?! How pathetic! How weak! What did they think of her now, after having to nurse her back to health like some cripple! She buried her face in her cloak to suppress the cry of humiliation that was dying to escape.

"Your clothes are by the fire. They should be warm and dry", he assured her.

His voice showed no sign that he might be disgusted with her. She eyed the clothes carefully and sat up, wrapping the cloak around her tightly. Respectfully, Murtagh shifted to the side, so that his back was to her. The gentleness with which he carried out the manoeuvre was almost touching; so careful to disturb Lia as little as possible. When he was turned, Ella rushed to get dressed.

Lia felt the blissful release from her dream as she was jostled into her waking form. With a smile on her lips, she opened her eyes to see Murtagh staring down at her. He gave her an apologetic look, then gazed into her eyes with such intensity, that she felt more disturbed than flattered. Whatever he saw there made relief sweep over him. The smile that followed caused her to frown.

_What is wrong? _she asked warily.

_Nothing. Nothing at all. I just happened to miss you. That is all_

_You see me all the time!_

_It is different when you sleep_

_How so?_

_You aren't so annoyingly endearing_

_Charming_ she scoffed.

_You asked_ he retorted with a grin.

Lia looked up into his face; saw the dark rings that circled his eyes and gave him a disproving look.

_You didn't sleep_ she accused.

_I most certainly did_

_Then why do you look like someone has punched you in both eyes?_

_Who's to say that they didn't? Who's to say that it wasn't you? You do insist on flailing your arms in your sleep and your snoring is –_

_I do not snore!_

_How would you know?_

_I… I just would_

_Good morning by the way_

_Good morning to you too_

He ruffled her hair. She groaned and sat up. Realising that she was half dressed, she rose to her feet and turned her back to him, slipping the clean robe over her head. He pouted a little

_It's nothing I haven't seen before_ he whined.

_That isn't the point. There are ladies present and it is hardly appropriate_

_Where?_

_Very funny_

Suitably covered, but hardly dressed in her preferred attire, she approached the fire to pick up and change into her tattered tunic. Massacred as it was, it was still the most practical item of clothing that she owned. It was the only other item of clothing that she owned. Ella was awake, sat with her back to them and dressed in her own clothes. At the sight of her friend alive and well, Lia smiled warmly and stood in front of the girl, who was for some unknown reason, unable to meet her eyes. Crouching to her level, she sought to capture her wandering gaze. Ella reluctantly forced herself to look at her mentor.

"I'm sorry", she muttered pathetically.

"You are… _sorry_?" Lia asked, saying each of the words slowly, in puzzlement.

"I let you down", Ella tried to explain, feeling stupider by the second.

"You let us… _down_?!?"

Lia's brows arched high in disbelief. She shot Murtagh an incredulous look and shook her head. Murtagh snorted a laugh and muttered the one word, "_Women_" in a derisive tone. When Lia's eyes focused on Ella once more, they were filled with a fury that almost made her flinch.

"You are _sorry_?!" Lia thundered, "_You are_ _sorry_?! The _only_ thing you should be _sorry_ for is having me _sick with worry_! Shock is perfectly _natural_ Ella. Murtagh and I would never have held that against you, but you _gave up_! You let it all take a hold of you and I never want to see you give into yourself like that ever again! You are a _fighter_! You could have _died_ last night!"

"I know...I promise to be stronger", Ella spoke meekly to the ground.

Lia sighed in exasperation and lifted Ella's chin with her finger.

"Do not promise _me_. Promise _yourself_! We will not always be around to save you and I need to know that you are able to look after yourself. You mean more to me than you probably should. If you had died last night…" her unfinished sentence lingered and a tragic look passed across her face.

Ella's eyes misted over as she heard the words that she had longed to hear. Lia had never been very verbose. She mostly hinted at her thoughts and feelings. Much was left to the guesswork of the receiving party. To hear Lia suggest that she cared for her on such a level meant so much. The pain in her voice only emphasised that her words were sincere.

"But I _didn't_… You two saved me and I am eternally grateful. I will take care of myself. I will be stronger and should either of you ever require my aid so that I may return the favour, you shall have it. I owe you a debt", Ella said with feeling.

Neither of them doubted the clarity of her words, but the promise caused them to become a victim of the darker side of their humour. Murtagh laughed harshly and could not even bring himself to come up with a suitable response. It was too twisted. No body else deserved to be tied to him in any way, shape or form. It was safer for her if she stomped such silliness out of her mind. Taken aback by his reaction, Ella eyed him suspiciously, before frowning up at Lia.

"What did I say?" she asked in a defensive and hurt tone.

It was equally discomforting to see that Lia's expression also did not fit the reaction requirements to her statement. Although Lia had not uttered a sound, the smile that she wore seemed more disturbing.

"It is nothing. You owe neither of us anything. We would prefer it that way", Lia said in a kindly, but firmly.

"But I _want _to pay you back", Ella argued.

"Stay alive. _That_ is all that we wish"

There was something more to Lia's words; it was clear from the way that she hastily left to be beside Murtagh. Shuffling around, Ella sat facing them and said no more. If they only wished her to stay alive in return for her rescue, she supposed that she should be grateful. Others would have made greater demands, but still, regardless of what they wanted, she told herself that if a time came when she could return the favour, she would.

Restlessly, Murtagh leapt to his feet and headed to the door. He pressed his face against the bars, just as he had the previous evening and bellowed loudly and cheerfully down the hall.

"**GOOD MORNIG KIND SIRS! WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PROMPT AID IN REVIVING OUR COLLEAGE! HONESTLY! WITHOUT YOUR FAST AND EFFICIENT SERVICES, WHO KNOWS WHAT MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED! ALL THANKS ASIDE, WE ARE TERRIBLY HUNGRY AND WE WERE WONDERING AT EXACTLY WHAT HOUR WILL BREAKFAST BE SERVED**?"

That was it, all that was needed to break the tension that he settled between them all. Ella choked back a laugh and Lia promptly rose, appeared by his side and flicked his ear.

"_Ouch_! What was _that_ for!" he complained, rubbing at his ear.

"_Don't_ push our _luck_!" Lia scolded him unsuccessfully, as her face wore a broad grin.

"That _hurt_ woman!" he grumbled.

"_Now_ you plainly seek to _insult _me! Are you saying _that _hurt more than one of my _punches_?!" she hollered back at him, all traces of amusement obsolete.

"Yes!" he confirmed with a cross between a wince and a smile.

"_Maybe_ if I punched you _on_ the ear, you'd feel differently…"

She allowed a dramatic, thoughtful pause before she lashed out. He swerved out of the way and issued her a flick to the ear of his own. She yelped and glared at him balefully. His eyes gleamed in excitement and he beckoned her with a finger.

"Come and get it," he invited.

"I _fully_ intend to", she growled back at him and then lunged.

For safety purposes, Ella pressed herself against the wall furthest away and tried her hardest not to laugh, in fear of becoming involved in the skirmish somehow. It was ridiculous; she had seen them in battle, witnessed their bravery and also brawl between themselves and _never _had she heard or seen them react so _childishly_! Here they were, attacking each other in the most _involved_ ear flicking combat she had ever seen! Cursing and laughing, they had backed into a corner. Lia had trapped Murtagh against the wall, flicking at every inch of him until he was doubled over in laughter and pain. Murtagh saw his advantage and tackled her to the ground. With a loud and uncomfortable sounding thud, they crashed into a heap, he atop of her, but not for long. In his moment of victory, he had forgotten about two very important things, his testicles. Her knee rose to his groin and he crumpled, his full weight crushing her. Rolling him onto his back and straddling him, she pinned him down with all her weight. Ella imagined that she was heavier than she looked.

"I can stay here _all _day", Lia stated happily.

"That may be true, but you cannot spare the hands to reach my ears. I suppose you _could_ head butt me if you honestly feel the need", he suggested through wheezing breaths.

"That is _your_ areas of expertise", she replied with a meaningful look, before smirking and adding, "But _Ella_ is unoccupied!"

Glancing sideways at her, Lia smiled innocently.

"Ella? Would you care to leave your mark on him? I guarantee your safety. It will do him good to be humbled by two _girls_", she taunted and he groaned in annoyance.

"I'm alright," Ella giggled, shaking her head.

"_Pity_", Lia sighed.

Releasing her grip on his arms, she made to move away, when he pulled her back down against him, grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. Scrambling away from him, red in the face, Lia stood and cleared her throat, scowling down at her grinning counterpart. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Ella had taken a sudden interest in her feet, but her lips were twitching at the corners and if possible, her eyes were laughing.

_Behave!_ she hissed at him.

_Why?_ he demanded.

_Because?!?_

_You know, that is not a proper answer_

_I am not prone to public displays of affection!_

_She is not the public, she is Ella, and she is like a bloody sister to you!_

_All the more reason to behave_ she pointed out.

_This is ridiculous Lia. She knows!_ he argued, sounding bored.

_That is no excuse!_

_Yes it is_

_No it isn't_

_Lia…_

_What?!_

_Don't make me come over there_

_You wouldn't dare!_

_Wouldn't I? I think we both know that I would_

_You stay where you are!_ she ordered.

_You think you know her, but despite everything you don't. How do you know that she is so innocent?!_ he asked irritably.

_I… I do not… but that is hardly the point_ she responded evasively.

_Fine _he agreed, a little too easily.

_Fine_ she stated, hoping that this was the end of it.

_You leave me no choice..._

_Murtagh_ she warned.

_I am going to count to five and if you are not sat here in my arms by the time I finish, I am going to drop my damn trousers and give her an eyeful!_

Her face blanched.

_One… two… three… four…_

His hands moved to his belt and she gave in. Swiftly, she lowered herself to the floor and Murtagh propped his knees up, opening them to provide her with a gap in which to sit. Nestling up against him, he wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed her temple. Despite her annoyance, she could not think of any other place that she would rather be. The atmosphere had changed again. Their sudden show of affection only brought home the reasons for why they had tried to escape and confirming their intensified relationship to someone other than themselves was not as comforting as she would have hoped.

Murtagh could feel it; she was ill at ease. He shared none of her reluctance. It did not matter who knew, not any more. He rested his head against her shoulder and buried his face against her neck. Inhaling deeply, he grinned. She smelled _awfu_l! Their bathing hadn't been much use, being shortly followed by a day's trek through the mountain and an intense battle of minds. Hearing his thoughts, she pursed her lips and shot him a dark look from the corner of her eye. His only response was to inhale deeper and press his lips to the hollow beneath her ear. He didn't care about the smell. After all, it was a part of her and he was more than aware of his own musty odour mingling with hers. It was oddly comforting, being able to recognise his scent upon her. In an animal, territorial way, it pleased him greatly. She was marked as his. Giving in, she leaned her head back further and made herself comfortable.

On one hand, Ella was positive that she should have felt embarrassed or at least tried to pretend that she wasn't there, but she could not deny that her primary emotion was relief, shortly followed by a sense of importance. They had chosen to drop their pretences for her. They trusted her with their secret. It was obvious that it was Murtagh's idea, which surprised her. Lia actually seemed rather uncomfortable, sitting stiffly for a while, but as the minutes passed by, some of it melted away. Ella wanted to break the silence, to say something that would kill the remaining unease. Murtagh, who seemed to have similar intentions, spoke first.

"Well, this is cosy… The three of us cooped up in this homey atmosphere…So... tell me Ella… What is a girl like _you_ doing stuck in a place like _this _with the likes of _us_?"

His question caught her off guard, as did his casual tone. Lia tried to elbow him, but knowing her too well, his arms quickly circled over hers, acting as restraints. Unable to lash out, she gave Ella an apologetic look; the one that Murtagh was unable to offer, given the fact the he felt no remorse towards his inquiry.

"Ella, please excuse Murtagh. Manners escape him", Lia said in a clipped voice.

"I am not being _rude_. I am only asking a _question_", he stated in his defense.

"You are _prying_"

"So what if I am? There is nothing better to do in this place. I am bored! Besides, surely showing an _interest_ in a fellow colleague should be considered as being _polite_ and _civil_?"

"It _could _be taken that way, but considering the person doing the asking is _you_, I think we can rule _out _the chances"

"Oh _please_. There is no harm in _asking_", he muttered.

"If she is here with us, it is because she _doesn't_ want to tell anyone", Lia pointed out obviously.

"We are not just _anyone_", he reminded her.

"I killed a man," Ella cut into their mild bickering in a calm manner.

The both of them stopped and gaped at her. Ella was vaguely aware that her heart was hammering in her chest. Anxiously, she gave them an appraising look. What would they make of her revelation? At that moment, it was hard to tell. Murtagh's eyes were wide with surprise, whilst one of Lia's brows was cocked high in incredulity. Ella then realised that they were waiting for more.

"He murdered my father and I… got a little _carried away_?" she added, deciding to leave out the part where she had stabbed the man until she had lost the ability to count.

Murtagh and Lia turned to face each other. Their lips were sealed shut, but it was clear that they were speaking. Murtagh's mouth turned up at the side; the beginnings of a condescending smile.

_And there you were thinking that she couldn't take care of herself!_

_I stand corrected_ Lia admitted, still rather shocked.

Ella waited for some reaction. What she didn't expect was Murtagh's wide grin and nod of approval.

"Well, _who_ would have _guessed_?" he asked rhetorically and in good humour.

"You're _not_ – I _mean_… You don't _think_ that _I_-"

"- Are a _bad person_?" he finished her sentence with a chortle, "_HA_! Your crime was one of _passion_! I have _known_ and _seen _people kill for _worse _and much _less_! Do we think _less_ of you? I think Lia here is having a little trouble with the fact that she has no reason to _mother_ you anymore, but I personally like and _respect_ a woman who can take matters into her own hands. _As_ you can probably _tell_…" he confirmed, cocking his head towards Lia, who seemed to have recovered enough to roll her eyes and smirk at the both of them.

_Is there no innocence left in the world_, Lia wondered to herself? Murtagh did not even bother to grace her with an answer.

Their reaction was so different to that of Eragon's. Eragon had accepted her, but he had not fooled her. Ella had seen that he had been disturbed. Telling these two almost _lightened_ the burden of her crime. She had always felt so awful, so afraid that she was a monster of sorts, but seeing how little they were affected by her news, she begun to suspect that she had been overreacting all these years. Should she be the one who was disturbed by their acceptance and slight admiration? Once again, it was an instance where she was sure that she should have felt something other than relief. Everyone was suddenly more relaxed. _How strange_, Ella mused. They discover that there is another killer in their midst and it makes them more _comfortable_. For the briefest moment, she pictured herself, sword in hand, standing at their sides, attempting to look as menacing as they often did. She burst into a mild coughing fit to hide her laughter at the unlikely scenario and suddenly found that granted with their confidence, she had the courage to ask a question of her own.

"What of you two? What is so important that you hide it from these people?" she asked.

In all honesty, she hadn't expected a reply. Murtagh smiled at her, but his eyes were cold.

"You will find out soon enough", he assured her in an ominous voice.

Lia did not say anything. Her brow creased ever so slightly and there was a determination in her eyes that Ella could not place. Slipping into silence once more, some of the discomfort returned. Suddenly, Ella was not so sure that she wanted to know their secret. There was too much suspense surrounding the subject and their expressions were so bleak that she almost hoped that she would _never_ find out. She was happy knowing them in the way that she already did; they were her piers. Unlike her revelation, she suspected that theirs would have the opposite effect, or at least that was what they seemed to think. They may be wrong; it was hard to believe that anything could make them appear less in her eyes. When whatever it was would be finally out in the open, she would put it aside and attempt to forget that she had ever learned the incriminating fact. Her opinion of them would not lessen, ever.

Murtagh turned his attention to Lia, watching her face that was turned away from his. Having had enough of talking aloud, he returned to the comfort and privacy of their link. Whilst her face only indicated the smallest irritation, her insides were brimming over. He sighed impatiently and then smiled wryly.

_Do you want to talk or would you care to fight?_

_I am torn. Talking seems to have little effect on you. Maybe a good arse kicking will make you take things more seriously?_

_You think I am not serious?_

_I think you could try harder to hold some optimism!_

_Fine, we will live to see another day. There. Are you happy?_

_You cannot just say it. You have to mean it_

_All right… we will try our best to see another day. Is that satisfactory?_

_Not good enough… try harder_

He took a moment to think and then grinned impishly as he removed a hand from around her and traced a finger from the back of her neck down to the base of her spine. Though her expression remained mildly aggravated, he felt the rush of longing pass through her. He moved his lips to her ear, despite the fact that he was whispering inside her mind.

_How about this… We wait… until tomorrow?_

Her grin was inevitable. Turning, she reached a hand and traced the outline of his lips with her fingers, before she let her finger run down the contours is his chest and down to his naval. Where her finger passed, a trail of Goosebumps rose in response. She stopped and briefly faced Ella, a hint of embarrassment in her face.

"Do… Do you mind if…we…?" Lia asked, not entirely sure how to phrase her request.

"Not at _all,_" Ella replied, giggling at Lia's naïve hesitation, "Just pretend that I'm not here. _Whatever _makes things easier"

Smirking in thanks, Lia rose to her knees and turned to face her partner. Pushing his legs down, she sat on top of his lap and shuffled forward until her legs were either side of his middle. Murtagh leaned his head to the side to catch a glimpse of Ella's reaction, for comedy value if for no other reason. The girl had taken to lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, smiling to herself and ignoring them completely. She almost looked pleased! Taking advantage of the moment, he pulled Lia as close as he dared, resting his hands on the small of her back. Even sat the way she was, she still had to tilt her head backwards, as she guided his face to hers. Excitedly, he dove in for a kiss, which was immediately stopped by a finger.

They stayed like that for a while, faces and lips less than an inch apart, separated by her index finger. Her eyes hovered on his lips as she could feel his increased breathing. She stroked his lower lip, painfully aware of the way in which he stared at her and even more aware of their desire. She could not bring herself to look him in the eyes, afraid that if she did, she may conveniently forget their audience. His suggestion of waiting until tomorrow was the best assurance she would ever receive and she intended to give him _all _the motivation that he needed.

_Tomorrow sounds like a suitable arrangement, I suppose…_

_You suppose?_ Murtagh asked, trying not to sound distracted, but unable to shift his urge to nip at her finger and kiss her fiercely

_Yes. Unless you wish for me to change my mind?_ she teased.

_If you are happy, I am happy_ he replied amiably.

_Right now, I am very happy and … hmmm? … It sincerely feels like you are enjoying this too…_

She moved just that little bit closer to him and that was all that it took to break his control. Pushing her finger aside, he pressed his lips to hers. Clearly comforted by Ella's words, she kissed him back with enough passion that left him contemplating _exactly_ how _much _they could get away with, when a third party existed in the same room. Sensing the upcoming lapse in control, she begun to pull away from him.

_Uh huh!_ he protested, throwing himself back into the kiss, which she now also found too appealing to deny herself.

She was determined to argue, but unwilling to stop.

_Murtagh…in all seriousness… we should stop… I… am being… serious!_

_Why… are… we talking… like this?!_ he panted back at her.

_I… don't know!_ she wheezed.

They laughed. Not only were they talking whilst engaging in lip to lip connectivity, the effort was manifesting itself in their internal conversation. It seemed as if the two activities should not be related or connected in any way, but evidently, they were. Another mystery in regards to their connection that they were forced to simply accept.

_Fine… you stop_ Murtagh suggested, refusing to be the one who did the stopping.

_I…why me?!_ she argued pitifully.

Despite her good intentions, she was clearly as reluctant as he was and at this point, things were getting out of hand. The thought of them stopping made their efforts to stay connected all the more desperate. Lia's fingers twisted into his hair and Murtagh's hands raced up and down her back, pulling her so close that it was bordering on _inappropriate_.

As fortune had it, they were saved from arguing or progressing any further, by the sound of voices down the hall. Gasping for air, they broke apart. Lia tried to move away, but Murtagh held her in place. She gave him a puzzled look, to which he replied with a sardonic smile.

_I really think it would be appropriate for you to stay where you are…_

Her expression turned to one of amusement as the meaning behind his words dawned on her.

_Did we enjoy ourselves a little too much?_ she asked, feigning disaproval.

_You could say that_ he replied, unabashed.

_To be continued…_ she promised.

_Tomorrow _he confirmed with a wink.

After briefly exchanging one last, quick grin, their expressions slipped into one of caution. Lia shifted herself to sit sideways across his lap. Murtagh folded his arms and focus on the door, a glare at the ready. Ella, torn from her introversion, sat up at once and prepared her own face with a hard look. The three of them waited, wondering whether this would be the arrival of breakfast or something more.

Two of the grumbling guards from the night before had been ordered to stay with the prisoners. It was long and tedious work, which neither of them would have opted for had they been given the choice. Elsewhere in the mountain, people talked of the coming battle and they longed to be a part of it - not lumbered at the end of a chilly tunnel, keeping watch over prisoners that would never be able to escape. Their orders had been simple enough: they were to stay put, fulfil any reasonable requests and ensure that none other than themselves initiated contact. The two of them had not said a word to each other for over two hours and they were already bored of each other's company. Consumed by a healthy bout if innocent daydreaming, they nearly jumped ten feet in their air when the girl was suddenly stood right before them. Neither had heard sound of her approach. It was as thought she had materialised from thin air.

"Bloody hell, you scared the life out of me girl!" one exclaimed, with a nervous chuckle.

"What are you doing down here?" the other asked suspiciously.

Their attempts to resume both professional stances and expressions failed miserably. The girl was just too beautiful for them not to stare. They knew who she was. They also knew that she was not _entirely_ to be trusted. The controversy that surrounded her was too great to ignore. Erika could see the wariness and she savoured it. They were right to be cautious, but it would not help them. Grinning, she prepared to meddle with their right to free will.

"Good morning gentlemen. I come with food for our guests", she said with a broad smile.

To prove her statement as true, she lifted a basket of bread, which they had not noticed before. Their expressions relaxed a little. The one that had nearly suffered a heart attack at her sudden arrival smiled at her, grateful that someone else had though to wait on the prisoners. The other guard held out his hand to take the basket from her. His eyes were cold.

"Thank you for your trouble. We can take it from here", he stated tersely.

"That is _very_ sweet of you, but I think that _I_ should rather like to take it _myself_", she requested in a tempting voice.

The man looked momentarily confused, and then shrugged indifferently.

"All right…" he agreed, although somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered why.

Erika winked at him and turned to face the other guard, who had started to look slightly worried about the dramatic change in his usually law abiding colleague.

"And _you_… You _really_ need to use the bathroom", she informed him, wincing a little to show that she meant it.

"I _do_?" he asked, baffled, before suddenly breaking into a comical hop as he realised that he was in fact positively desperate. "_I do_!"" he cried out.

"Yes. _Quite badly_ actually, but do not concern yourself. You can make it and your friend _very_ much wishes to accompany you", she laughed to herself.

"He... _he does_?" the guard asked, sounding horrified to the point of it being funny.

"I _do_?" the other enquired worriedly, as his confusion upped a notch.

"Yes! The more the merrier! Run along now children, we do not want any accidents and take your time coming back. You _may_ even want to argue about the fact that your wives have been sleeping around like a pair of whores as a result of your continued negligence?" she suggested gleefully.

"They?… She! … That _bitch_!" The hopping man roared.

"Come on man, before you piss yourself!" the other begged, showing little surprise to the news of his wife's betrayal.

As they barged past her, Erika held out an open palm.

"Keys?" she requested, pleasantly.

The previously impolite man hastily rummaged through his pockets and handed her a large, rusty key without any argument and then proceeded to chase his now whimpering partner down the tunnel.

Smiling triumphantly, Erika walked towards the single, occupied cell. She felt the excitement get the better of her and noticed that she had skipped twenty paces, appearing just outside the door. The speed was useful, but often ruined any chance of enjoying a moment for long. Excitement only made things pass too quickly, mainly _her_. She had wanted several paces at _least_ to bask in the upcoming challenge. Allegedly, two of these three were impervious to her master's abilities and he had stooped so low as to ask for her help. How that must have pained him! The thought delighted her. Just because she was forced to serve him did not mean that she liked him in the least. In fact, she rather hated him, or to be more precise, the _both_ of them. Still, he knew how to feed her ego. He knew his curiosity could only be matched by hers. She had not yet met a being that could withstand her charm. Would they bow to her persuasion? She sincerely hoped so.

Peeking through the barred window, she took in their positions, expressions and stances. They were all tense and this interested her. The usual response to an extremely attractive, innocent looking girl was instant relaxation, which made her work all the more easier. These were no ordinary folk. This form of resistance would provide a greater challenge. _Good_, she smirked to herself. She enjoyed a challenge. As she turned the key, her eyes flickered to the young man and she let a playful smile pass her lips. He _was_ a handsome one. His glare lingered a moment longer, before his expression turned blank, but there was a _definite_ interest in his eyes. He _was_ a man, it was _expected_. Obviously, she would start with him. Opening the door slowly, unthreateningly, she entered the cell.

They had listened intently as some conversation was carried out in the distance. It was too far to make out what was said, but at the sound of a radiant laugh, it was apparent that a female had entered the equation somehow. Lia automatically tensed. Murtagh felt it and grinned inwardly.

_Does my lady fear a little competition?_

_Do not be absurd_ she snorted.

_She may be uncommonly beautiful…_ he pretended to muse.

_She may end up with her head stuffed and mounted on our cell wall_ she threatened in an all too serious tone.

He laughed heartily. Her tension remained. They heard approaching footsteps and then they stopped, much further back than would have been expected and two piercing green eyes observed them through the window. This did not disturb Lia the most. What disturbed her more was the heavenly face to which the eyes belonged.

_I win_ Murtagh stated with undisguised admiration.

_Weak, pathetic fool!_ she grumbled.

_Jealous?_ he asked, sounding hopeful.

The girl stepped into the cell and Lia eyed her critically, before that vindictive smile that he had grown to love swept across her internal expression.

_The face of an angel... The physique of a twig...I could take her. May I?_ she asked eagerly.

_Be nice to the pretty lady. She comes bearing food. Now this is what I call service!_ he exclaimed jubilantly.

_Maybe you should ask her if there are any other services she can offer?_ Lia suggested icily.

_I am allowed to look! I have all that I ever wish to touch right here_ he confirmed with a surge of lust that almost made her blush.

_Oh you can look… but the moment I start to see her bare breasts in your mind… stuffed and mounted…_ she both reminded and warned him.

_The same rules apply to you too my lady_ he added seriously.

_I assure you that I shall not be thinking about her breasts_ she vowed with mock solemnity.

_It matters not! Anyone in your thoughts other than I will be slaughtered, chopped, diced and hidden in the walls of their own home_

_Well there go my chances to satisfy my Rider fantasies. The dreams I suppress to save the world! _she sighed exaggeratedly.

He shuddered at her words and grimaced in disgust at the very suggestion.

_I think you made me lose my appetite_ he said in between gags.

_Well then, she will not need to hang around for long_ she stated shrewdly.

Erika placed the basket by her feet and looked from the young man to the young woman. The girl radiated hostility and rightly so, this man was apparently her lover and she was about to engage in conversation with him. Ignoring the glaring girl, Erika looked deep into the attractive man's eyes and spoke in a seductive voice.

"_Who are you and what are you doing here_?" she asked.

Murtagh's expression changed. He raised a brow at her ever so slightly and his eyes instinctively moved away from the girl to Lia's face, which now displayed even more malice than it had before.

_Alriiiiiiight… what is going on here? _he asked.

_She is gazing at you as if I do not exist! That is what is going on here_! a bitter edge crept into her voice.

_Are you even paying attention?_

_Of course I am! I intend to snap her arms first, then her legs and then –_

_Lia!_

_What?!_

_She is no threat to you. No one is a threat to you. Calm yourself!_

_She makes it very difficult when she stares at you as if you were something to eat!_ She fumed, her aggression building higher and higher.

Tearing his eyes away from her, he stared back at the beautiful girl with empty eyes.

"Has _anyone_ never informed you that it is _rude_ to _stare_?" he informed her coolly.

The girl flinched back as if she had been slapped and her delicate brows pulled together into a frown. Lia's hostility died down enough for her to grin smugly at the beautiful intruder. Ella merely sat and watched, taking in as many details as she could. So far, all she had ascertained was that for some reason, this girl seemed to think that Murtagh would just answer her question without hesitation. _Silly girl_, she thought, as she shook her head and chuckled before she could stop herself. The green eyes shot towards her and she sobered herself.

"What about _you_? Why are _you_ here?" the girl asked, a harsh note in her voice.

Clearly the girl only saved her charisma for all _too_ willing males. Murtagh must have given her a nasty surprise. Ella grinned at the girls' failure and greeted her question with silence.

Erika was losing control of her temper and that was _never_ wise. _Damn these strangers_! What was it about them that rendered her powers useless!? The young man, reluctant as she was to admit it, came as less of a surprise. She had been warned about _him_, but the girl was inexcusable! From what she had learned, the girl had only escaped the probe via aid from the Rider. So how was she unaffected by her words? It made no sense! There was _one_ last person; the obviously jealous female, of which _nothing_ was known. Erika composed herself before meeting the young woman's eyes. What she had intended to sound like a polite request came out as a barked order.

"_You! Who are you? What are you hiding_?" she demanded furiously.

A smile spread across Lia's face. She cocked her head to the side, running her eyes across the girl in a belittling once over. Murtagh, from his angle, misinterpreted the gesture. Taken hold by a surprise thought, he simply had to ask the question, ludicrous as it sounded.

_Are you…are you looking at her brea-_

_Cleanse your filthy mind!_ she laughed.

_Thank heavens for that!_ he exclaimed, sighing in relief.

_And if I had been? What then?_ Lia asked, curiously entertained.

_I would have had to kill her, naturally_ he said nonchalantly.

_Naturally _she agreed airily.

Lia rested her chin in the palm of her hand and narrowed her eyes at the now, not so attractive red-faced girl.

"Whatever you are trying to do, it will _not_ work", she promised, moving her eyes slowly from Murtagh to Ella, indicating that so far, she was the _only_ one with _any _inclination as to what was happening.

Stiffening at her words, Erika's friendly mask disappeared entirely.

"_Your breakfast_", she spat down at them, before turning, slamming the door shut, locking it and vanishing from sight.

There was no sound of her departure, but they were sure that she was gone.

"_Temper, temper_", Murtagh muttered, thrown by the girl's change in demeanour.

"That was odd...," Ella said, hoping to spur a discussion.

"She was a spy" Lia said, before turning to look at Murtagh, "And they sent _her_ because of _you_", she confirmed dryly.

"Can you blame them? I would sooner spill my heart to an attractive woman than to that bald headed-", he started, but he did not finish.

Images from his nightmare began to fill his head and all his efforts had to be used to keep them at bay.

"She works for _him_?" Ella asked, wondering how one so ugly could ever be in the company of one so striking.

"Yes… hmmm", Lia confirmed, before becoming pensive.

"This is bad, isn't it?" Ella said in a small voice.

No one replied. Everyone knew the answer. If the bald headed man was resorting to such measures, how far would he go once he discovered that his first attempt had failed? Silence fell upon them and conversation did not resume.

Erika marched past the unguarded entrance, spitting with rage. Dropping the keys to the ground, she leaned against the side of the main tunnel and breathed hard, steadying herself both physically and mentally. _Never_ had she been denied what she had wanted. Never.

"_And_?" the cold voice asked, sounding pleased with himself.

"And _nothing_! They... they are _immune_…" she admitted, resenting the sound of defeat in her voice.

Her master stood somewhere beside her in the shadows. In the dark, her vision was not so much of a problem. If she wanted to, she could have turned and noted the expression on his face, but she preferred not to. A decade had not altered the revulsion she felt every time that she was forced to look upon him.

"Is there anything you can tell me that _may_ be useful somehow?" he asked, clearly displeased.

A moment passed where she thought that there was _something_ that he had suspected and she could now _confirm_. A smile twisted her lips.

"The young man and woman. They are _intimately_ involved"

"_Really_? How _charming_. I wonder…" he became thoughtful.

There was a short pause and then an interested, "aaah". The smile was apparent in his voice.

"Erika, my sweet girl, I have a few last minute _alterations_ to make to the Rider's training programme. If it is not too much trouble, would you be so kind as to do me another... _service_?" he asked in a honeyed tone.

"My Lord..." she responded in agreement, anxious to play a part in whatever happened next.

"_Excellent_" he purred.

After gulping down a tankard of water, Eragon swallowed hard. It was no use, his throat was still dry from the nearly two hours he had embarked upon his monologue. Arya sat across the small table, her eyes carrying a faraway look.

"Rider…your tale intrigues me, as do your friends. I should very much care to be acquainted with them"

The sentence had only been completed when her eyes glazed over and her concentration was directed elsewhere. He waited patiently for her attention to return to him. It was apparent that this was how many communicated in this large place, or maybe it was only the higher-ranking citizens? Either way, she was being relayed information and whatever it was, caused her to rise from her seat and beam down at him.

"They are ready for you Eragon. Your assessment is to begin immediately. Do you have your sword?" she asked.

"I do", he replied, moving his cloak aside to display the hilt.

Arya, momentarily stunned, paled. An impressive feat, considering the already ivory tone of her skin.

"_Za' roc_!" she said the name in disgust, "Why did you not mention this?" she demanded angrily.

"I did not think that it was relevant," he stated defensively.

Shaking her head, she pulled his cloak back down to conceal the blade once more.

"There may be a time to carry that sword, but _not _today. We will find you another. Do you think you can fight with another?" she asked warily.

"We will soon find out", he stated, sounding disgruntled.

"That we will..." she acceded, leading the way from the room.

Following her lead, he stopped short as he noticed the two, thin rapiers that swung from her sides.

"You are rather _well_ armed for someone who seems so _important_", he stated cautiously.

"Of _course._ All the more reason to protect myself", she turned and smirked, "But the other reason would be because I shall be joining you today"

"Why?" he asked, unnerved.

"It will become evident when we get there", was all that she would say.

He continued to follow her, but groaned inwardly as he began to suspect that he would be made to fight this tall, intimidating and beautiful walking myth. Sighing, he thought about the possible crimes he had committed in his past life to deserve the oncoming humiliation.

Lia moved from Murtagh's lap to the ground beside him. Ella had moved herself closer to them. Time had passed and nothing had changed. Murtagh began to hum an unfamiliar tune, when the clamouring sound of armour reached their ears. They sprang to their feet and backed up against the far wall. Ella between the two of them, who stood slightly in front of her.

A group of men that they had never seen before stood outside the door. One dressed for battle opened the door; his eyes scanned the cell and landed on Lia. With a mailed glove, he pointed at her.

"You. You are to come with us" he ordered, as he entered the room flanked by two other spear-wielding soldiers.

"No!" Murtagh blurted angrily.

"Why?" Lia demanded.

"We are under orders to take you to the Rider's training ground," he said in a voice that rang with authority.

"_Why_?" Lia repeated her question.

"We follow orders, we do not ask questions!" he stated brusquely.

Lia folded her arms and stared at the ground, frowning as she ran though the possibilities of what such a request could mean. Murtagh's voice shouted at her.

_You are not going with them!_

_Do I have a choice?_

_No. I forbid it. You are not moving from that spot!_

_You think it is a trap?_

_I know it is a trap!_

_What of the Rider?_

_A cunning ploy to win your trust. A lie to get you out of here alone!_

_How many of them are there?_

_Five... no… eight… wait…. Maybe ten?_

_And they are all armed?_

_Yes_

_Answer me something…_

_Anything_

_Are you willing to die right now? Because if we refuse, that will be the only outcome. If I can reach some compromise, would you consider my words?_

_There will be no compromise you could ever make that would make me agree!_

_Hear me out…_

"I will comply if you meet my one condition", Lia said to the soldier in charge.

"A prisoner with gall!", the soldier laughed, half in disbelief and half in awe, "Very well young lady, what pray is your condition?"

"Where I go, _he_ goes," she gestured her head to Murtagh, who's eyes lit up at her words. "Refuse me and you will have blood on your hands, you will suffer casualties and you _will _have two _worthless_ corpses to answer for", she promised him.

The soldier grinned. There was something in the grin that she did not like. He was swayed far too easily. She had been certain that she would have had to persuade him further. Shrugging, he waved his hand before him.

"Better _yet_, why not invite you all! The task set is _yours_, but your friends can watch from the sidelines", he agreed affably.

"_What _task?" Lia asked in a vain attempt at indifference.

"_You_ get to fight the _Rider,_" he stated with a half smile.

Nodding agreeably, Lia stepped forward and glanced over her shoulder at the others. Murtagh's hands had balled into fists and Ella eyed him worriedly, as if he might explode.

_Well? Are you coming?_ she asked.

_This… is… suicide_ he growled.

_This is a chance to see our surroundings_ she corrected him.

_We do not know what this is!_

_Well we are about to find out... together_

_I am not happy about this... This is wrong… Do you know what they ask of me? What you ask of me?_

_I am asking you to observe the place and people that hold us against our will to aid our escape_

_You are asking me to watch you! To watch you?! It is not enough!_ he fumed.

_I am up against the Rider! He should be more terrified than I!_ she said with a grin.

_I am warning you. If something goes wrong –_ he clamped his lips together tightly.

_You will what?_ she dared to ask

_Just hope that they finish you off before I do!_

There was no humour to his warning. She wanted to shake her head, but she could not.

_I fully intend to survive... at least until tomorrow…_

He grinned despite himself, took a breath and reached out, grabbing a handful of Ella's cloak into his fist. She gave him a shocked look. Glaring back at her, he muttered under his breath.

"I need to make sure that at least _one_ of you stays by my side"

Ella considered it best not to argue. The soldiers stepped to either side of the doorway, making way for Lia, followed by Murtagh and Ella. The group set out back into the tunnel and they made their way towards the training ground.

Tasting dirt for the several thousandth time; Eragon concluded that he must have been a mass murderer of women and children and possibly the destroyer of entire villages to suffer the way that he was.

"_Up_!" Arya snarled at him.

He pushed himself to his feet, glared at her and raised his sword. He had barely lifted his arm, when he was on the ground once more, cheek pressed hard against the grit. He considered just lying there. Maybe it would end if he simply gave in?

"_Now_ Rider, this is _hardly_ the time to take a _nap_!" she chided.

It was the first time he had even considered turning to a woman and calling her a "_Bitch_". Choosing to hold his tongue, he rose once more and braced himself for the impact. His mouth was firmly shut. He was sick of the grainy dirt that now scratched against his gums, lodged in between his teeth and tasted so disgusting, that he didn't even _want_ to know what left that particular aftertaste. Shamefully, he eyes closed his eyes, but dealt with the shame by imagining what it would be like swing a fist at this stunning creature. The blow never came.

"_Ah_! We have guests… _and_ competition", she exclaimed with a new enthusiasm that made him curious enough to open one eye.

Following her gaze, both eyes opened wide and he laughed, overjoyed at the sight of his friends, whole and well. He waved. Murtagh gave one single, curt nod. Ella smiled warmly, but her eyes were wary and Lia was being escorted towards him. When they were two metres apart, the soldiers that had stood at her sides turned and left. Obviously, being in the presence of Arya was enough. Lia watched them leave with a look of diastase, before she met Eragon's eyes and dipped her head. He beamed at her and gestured to Arya with a wave of his hand.

"Lia… Arya… Arya… Lia", he introduced them officially.

Lia only nodded. Arya smiled at her. Eragon did not find comfort in their lack of communication. Being alone with his friend, he bombarded her with questions.

"How _are_ you all? Are they treating you well? Can I do _anything_ to help you?" he asked in a quick and low voice.

Raising a hand, Lia grinned for the first time. She almost missed how much he irritated her at times. It was comforting to know that despite maturing into the role of Rider, he had managed to cling to his personality.

"We are _fine_, we are _alive_ and if you intend us to _stay_ this way, you will _forget_ about us for a while", she spoke slowly, deliberately.

Her words did not make sense. The way in which she stared at him showed that she was trying to convey some hidden message with her eyes. Apparently she was not eager to discuss the matter in Arya's presence. He wished that she could speak more plainly. After several blows to and landings _on_ his head, his mind was a blur! He raised an apologetic brow. She rose her eyes to the heaves and exhaled sharply, shaking her head, understanding the meaning behind his gesture. Then she smiled, it was friendly but there was a definite sadness in her eyes. How we wished Arya would leave, but she took a step forwards and held out a hand. Eragon and Lia stared at it.

"I am very pleased to meet you," Arya said, with a little _too _much emphasis on the word "_very_".

Reluctantly, Lia took the hand and shook it. As Arya's hand gripped her own, the grasp tightened and the elf's brow furrowed. Lia tried to remove her hand, but the delicate fingers that grasped her own were unusually strong. Instead of embarrassing herself by struggling, she cleared her throat and stared at their joined hands pointedly.

"My _hand_?" Lia requested.

"My apologies", Arya replied, letting go, but not looking repentant in the least.

There was a tension between them, the tall looking elf and the short, burly warrior. Eragon laughed nervously and waved his sword in mock enthusiasm.

"So, _which_ one of you _lovely_ ladies would like to take pleasure in humbling me further?" he asked in a bright voice.

"That will not be necessary. Have a rest Rider", Arya said, without looking at him.

"I am under orders to fight him", Lia objected, almost rudely.

"_Whose_ orders?" Arya asked with interest.

Lia merely indicated to the soldiers that surrounded Murtagh and Ella. Arya smiled wryly, looked both ways and conspiratorially lowered her head, as if to divulge a big secret.

"Their orders mean little to me. I may not be the authority here, but I certainly outrank them on this fighting ground. So what say we allow the Rider a chance to catch his breath…"

Her suggestion was obvious, but Lia felt the need to clarify the meaning.

"You want me to fight you?" she asked, carefully.

Arya nodded. Lia took in the over six feet of the elf and her graceful physique. In the back of her mind, Murtagh's anxiety nagged at her like an old woman. Even from their distance, he would be able to see that there was a change in plan and he would undoubtedly be furious with her, should she deviate from the only plan of which he was aware. Then again, there was something compelling about the elf. She could sense no evil from her, only a genuine curiosity.

_What is going on?_ Murtagh asked impatiently.

_The elf wishes for a small bout of one to one combat_

_The elf? We drag her scrawny behind around with us for countless weeks and she wants to fight you?_

_Yes. Do you have any objections?_

_None whatsoever, but I do have one request_

_Being?_

_Kick her arse for me_

_It will be my pleasure_

Smiling eagerly, she too spoke to Eragon without looking in his direction.

"Eragon, why _don't _you take a seat, _watch_ and _learn_", she suggested in a voice that exuded confidence.

Eragon pulled at her arm and she frowned, as he dragged her aside and craned his neck to whisper in her ear.

"Lia, _look_ at me! I can barely _walk_! I have seen you fight and you are _amazing_, but _she_ is out of this _world_," he muttered sheepishly.

"You are concerned for my safety? _Rider_, I am _touched_!" she laughed and patted his shoulder.

"I am _serious_! I think she was holding _back_ for me! I saw the way she looked at you Lia, she will _not _show you the same courtesy she showed me- and look at the _state_ of me!" he griped, pointing at his stained and shabby clothing.

Lia took a firm hold of his jaw and dragged his face down to her level, so that he could see the confidence in her eyes. She smiled as she spoke.

"Rider. _I_ hold back for you too", she confessed with a rueful smile, "And if she _did _hold back on my account, I would only be _offended_. You _worry_ too much. _Trust_ me".

There was no convincing her, so he sighed and walked away. He had to smile. Only the likes of Lia would feel nervous _before_ an encounter and more c_omfortable_ when presented with the chance to test her skills. He said a silent prayer, hoping that she would be able to do what he could not; beat the elf.

Ella watched the congregation impatiently. Murtagh had gone from looking like he was about to kill every living thing in sight, to folding his arms and grinning like a child.

"_Well_?!" she asked, agitated.

He gave her an unappreciative look, due to the use of her unexpected tone, but then smirked down at her.

"_Watch_", he said from the corner of his mouth.

"_Fine_!" she sulked.

Her response reminded him of Lia so much that he laughed at her. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she realised that it had been unreasonable of her to ask the question in front of others. No body else here was aware of the link that was obviously meant to remain secret, but it was so annoying being left in the dark all the time! Unable to do anything else, she watched, leaning forward in surprise as Eragon walked away, leaving Lia and Arya standing alone. All of a sudden, Murtagh's blatant joy made sense.

"Is she-", she began to ask.

"She most certainly _is_", Murtagh stated proudly.

"Will she-", her sentence was cut short by a dark look from him that made her shrink back a little.

"She _always_ wins", he assured her, in a tone that closed the conversation.

Someone behind them who had been eavesdropping chuckled, a show of disbelief. Murtagh began to turn. Seeing the potentially _disastrous_ confrontation, Ella tugged at his sleeve. When he glared down at her, she shook her head infinitesimally. He set his jaw and folded his arms out of her reach, but made no attempt to turn when whoever it had been chucked once more. Ella smiled to herself, impressed that he had actually _listened _to her. Any doubts she had had for Lia were buried by his complete confidence. Matching his stance, she too folded her arms and waited for the fight to begin.

Arya nodded to someone nearby, who came running with a selection of swords. Lia examined each of them and then selected the two that resembled her own. After testing their weight and balance, she nodded and the man left. Drawing her own swords, Arya began to circle Lia in a casual manner. Lia was not foolish enough to remain stagnant. Keeping a safe distance, she moved when her opponent did. As Arya walked, she talked.

"I have heard _much_ about you Lia. He speaks _very_ highly of you and your… _skills_", her eyes rested on Lia's choice of two blades as opposed to the one.

"I am well learned," Lia said in an offhand manner.

"Maybe you are, or _maybe_ it is something _else_…" she prompted, hoping that Lia would say more.

"I know what I know and I learned what I could when I could, that is all. Now are we going to talk or are we going to fight?"

"I see your success has made you arrogant", Arya observed.

"And _I_ see that I shall have to teach something in the way of _manners_", Lia replied coldly.

"_Now_, _now_ human, your anger will not help you if you wish to _try_ and defeat me. You will need to use your _head_, your _wits_ and your _instincts_. Contrary to what you might be thinking, I do _not_ wish to make an example of you. I only wish to observe and _test_ your skills. You _may_ learn something useful," the elf said, sounding sure.

"_Fine_... let the _lesson_ begin," Lia said, as she stopped her pacing and held her swords at their starting positions, level with her waist and shoulder.

Arya did not seem to bother with such formalities. Her swords dangled loosely in her hands at her sides and then, all of a sudden, she was a blur. Lia gasped and ducked, just as two swords soared above her head, crossing over one another. Arya stayed still long enough to grin at her, before she was stood across from her once more. All humour and friendliness had left her. Righting herself, Lia's own grip loosen on the hilts of her swords. If she wanted to strike, an iron hold would only slow her down. Cursing to herself, she tried to recall how she had reacted quickly enough to avoid decapitation. It had happened so fast that maybe Murtagh hasn't seen? It would be _impossible_ to focus with his worry in the back of her mind. The best course of action would be to maintain this bravado and hope that her instincts were enough. Arya saw the hesitation in her eyes and bobbed her head in approval. She spoke in a tone that was both wise and fair.

"_Good_. It is about time that you took your enemies _seriously_, for they will show you _no_ mercy. _Now_, I give you a _choice_, do you walk _away_ or do you _fight_?"

Every part of Lia was shouting at her to decline, to return to the others and go back to their cell, but she could not. Her cursed pride got the better of her. Sighing inwardly, she wondered when it was going to get her killed. Would it be today? She risked a glance toward Murtagh and Ella. They were utterly unaware of her danger and convinced that she had the upper hand. She felt a twisted pleasure at the fact that she had managed to mask the predicament with her every present confidence. Looking back at Arya, she no longer saw her as an opponent, but a predator. The elf had been correct, instincts were the key to her demise. Resuming her stance, Lia took several deep breaths and focused all her senses, particularly her sight and hearing on the elf. She readied herself to win. She _had_ to.

"I fight," she stated simply.

Arya nodded and then became perfectly still. Lia waited for any critical detail that would signify the attack. A shimmer of the air and the scrape of the ground to her right told her what she needed to know. Dodging to the left, she immediately listened and looked for the signs of wherever the elf would appear next. Her priority was no longer attack; it was defence. She would dodge and learn, dodge and learn until the moment was right. Biding her time, not really thinking about what she was doing, merely reacting, she avoided each blow and slowly noticed a pattern appear in her opponent's attack.

If anyone had stood in front of Ella and Murtagh, they would have stared at their expressions and laughed until their sides hurt. The comedy was too great. Ella's head was dropped to the side; her ear almost pressed to her shoulder and her eyebrows so high, that they almost touched her hairline. Murtagh's folded arms now hung at his sides, his eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape, chin grazing his chest. All thought and emotion ceased to exist as he watched the two blurs on the fighting ground.

"Did _you_ know she could _do_ that?" Ella asked in awe.

He would have spoken or shook his head in response, but his shock had left him dumbfounded. The two fighters moved so fast, he could no longer tell which was which. He knew that one of them was Lia, but his brain could not process that fact. She had always been fast, agile and formidable, but not once had he ever seen her move with such terrifying speed! Was she even _aware_ of how fast she was moving? What did it mean? He stopped his thoughts whilst there was no way in which to placate them. A sound beside him made him tear his eyes away from her. Ella was laughing. She caught his perplexed look and laughed some more.

"Oh _please_!" she giggled, "Is there _anything_ she can't do?!"

He thought about that and laughed away what was left of his stupor.

"What can I say? _That_ is my _girl_", he said, pleased with himself.

Staring at the blurring fighters without blinking, for the briefest second, he swore that he had seen Lia crouched down low and then she joined the other blur. He grinned. Having seen that the blur that belonged to _him_ was performing excellently, he sent her a wave of affection and hoped that it would gain her the upper hand.

The pattern was clear now, almost _laughably_ obvious. If she could somehow get _behind_ the elf and _strike_ at the same time, she could win. The cycle lasted ten seconds at a time and consisted of five different attacks. It seemed impossible that she had been evading five attacks in two-second intervals, but she had and only managed it with devoted concentration and the plain fact that she had no choice in the matter. The fight could only end with her returning to the others. Failure was never an option. The opening was coming; she gently leaned away from the sword that had aimed for her ribs. It was no longer difficult, it was a dance and the moves were always the same. She realised that Arya's actions were deliberate, the continual pattern was used for Lia's benefit. Had the elf _wanted_ to, she could have deviated from it and killed her at any time. This truly _was_ a test and she was about to prove that she had learned. The opening came at the end of every cycle. She counted down in her mind and when she reached ten, she planned to attack.

_Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…one_

Instead of moving left, she rolled right and whilst righting herself, thrust a sword upwards to the elf's neck. At the same moment, she felt the tip of something sharp under her chin. The world had stopped moving and they were still. The elf, as calmly as if she had been stood there the whole time. It took Lia a few seconds to realise it, but her limbs were shaking and her clothes were soaked through. Arya gazed at the blade by her neck and smiled down at Lia, as she gently pushed the tip away and lowered her own.

"Congratulations, you _passed_", she laughed, offering her hand to Lia once more.

Too thrown by what she had just achieved, Lia extended her hand without thought and shook the elf's. There was no strange look that passed between them on this occasion. Arya seemed pleased and then her expression turned stony, as she looked somewhere behind Lia's head. Lia turned to see the bald headed man at the side of the fighting ground, clapping his hands in a mocking fashion. When he spoke, his voice was loud and clear for all to hear.

"_Excellent_! A _wonderful _demonstration! _Now _perhaps something a little more _challenging_?"

Eight burly men stepped from behind him and lumbered towards where Lia and Arya stood. Every man was armed. Their faces were cruel and sadistic and there was a look in their eyes that made Lia tense once more. As they grew nearer, Arya bent her head and whispered to her rapidly.

"Listen to me Lia…I do not know you nor your secrets, but I know you are in danger. You have upset one of the Twins and those who offend them do _not_ live long after. This coming demonstration is intended to end with an _accident_ and I am in _no _position to help you. Dear girl, you are _alone_…"

The words sunk in. They seemed surreal, as if they were being said to someone else. Lia felt the beginnings of Murtagh's panic and closed her eyes. As she did so, she heard Arya's parting words; words that made perfect sense in the strangest way.

"That's right. _Sometimes_ when there is more than _one_, you see _better _when you do not see _at all._"

Murtagh made a noise at the back of his throat at the sight of the men and turned to one of the soldiers behind him.

"_What_ is the meaning of this? Call her back here this _instant_!" he demanded.

"That decision is out of our hands. If one of the Twins wishes her to fight, then she must", the soldier replied.

_Twins_. The reference caused the colour to drain from his face, as he remembered the disturbing scene from his nightmare. The threat there had been not one, but _two_ bald headed men. It was a mistake. It could not be true.

"_Twins_?" he asked, regretting his decision instantly.

"The two leaders of Du Vrangr Gata. _That_ is one of them over there," the solder replied matter-of-factly.

Having his worst fears confirmed, he took a step forward, only to feel the tips of several spears pressed against his back.

"Murtagh _don't_!" Ella pleaded.

"They are going to _kill_ her!" he said acidly.

"And this lot will kill _you_ if you _move_!" she argued, "And _then_ what use will you be _after _she finishes off those big bastards?"

"This is _not_ a game anymore, it is a _death-trap_!" he spat back at her.

"_All_ the more reason to be _calm_. She doesn't need _you_ making things any _worse_," she hinted desperately.

He cursed. She was _right_. The fight would start before he could ever reach her. If he allowed himself to reach a more unstable state of mind, it would affect her own and _he _would be responsible for any wound that she incurred. He bit back his fury and fears and shoved his fist into his mouth. Lia was up against eight huge men. He tried his best to remember the day by the mountains, where they had fought the Kull. Surely these men would be slow and stupid in comparison, but their sheer number alone put her at a disadvantage. It was too late to run to her aid whether he wanted to or not, his outburst had earned him no less than five spear points pressed against the small of his back. He had never been a praying man, but he prayed right there and then. He prayed that she would kill every last one of them.

Lia's eyes remained closed. With her vision taken away, her hearing became more acute, as did her sense of smell. For some strange reason, she dropped one of her swords. Something inside her convinced her that she should have one free arm available. It was interesting how she could make out their individual, heavy footsteps and how they positioned themselves evenly around her. She could hear their heavy breathing, smell their stale breath and sweat and hear the gentle whooshing noise of their weapons, as they slapped them against their opposite palms in a menacing way. From a distance she had identified four axes, three broadswords and one morning star flair. It was easy to identify which was which by their various sounds. The axes were the heaviest, the broadswords would slice though the air quicker and the morning star flail existed as a strange whirring noise. In the blackness of her mind, she could see them clearly and where their weapons lay. They waited for the word of the bald headed man to commence. She was ready now. With a grim smile, she spoke the one word as an order.

"_Begin_"

The men grinned down at the strange girl with her closed eyes and obeyed.

Feeling something that he could not see, Murtagh's skin crawled in discomfort and his eyes roved around to see what had caused the unpleasant sensation. It was as though something invisible had brushed against his skin. There, standing by Ella's side stood the beautiful serving girl who had acted as a spy. She did not appear to feel awkward standing beside them and her narrowed eyes were filled with unpleasant surprise. The girl watched the start of the fight with the same concern on her face that was etched on both Ella's face and his. Who _was _this girl? If she worked for the magical faction, then why would she care about the outcome of the fight? Her eyes tightened and he immediately refocused on Lia, angry that he had been distracted for even a _second_. Then he found himself squinting hard at her. _No_, he could not be seeing things correctly. It was trick of the light. There was no way she would _ever_ fight with her eyes closed. He heard Ella gulp hard beside him and hoped that it was not because she had noticed what he had thought that he had. On this instance, he did not ask anything that may confirm his fears. For once, he preferred to remain ignorant.

The men began to close in on her. The fight was too easy and would end too quickly. Each was a convicted murderer, sentenced to death, but promised the chance of one last kill. The one that issued the "_accidental_" killing blow would receive a full pardon. Eager, excited and desperate, they converged around her as one, rose their weapons in unison and from that point, it was a race. Footsteps dashed towards her, whooshing and whirring noises cut and swung through the air. The speed and ferocity with which they ran and attacked made her smile. Each weapon sounded in line with her waist and head and each man simply expected her to stay put. She waited for the sliding sound of their feet, as they stopped to swing their weapons at her. Of course she needed to react _before_ that. They would swing whist they were stopping. She had only _one_ plan, the _simplest_ of them all and one than had saved her over and over again. The first sound of a slowing step met her ears and that was her cue to _drop_. Landing perfectly flat and guaranteeing herself minimal bruising, she listened to the musical sound that of the gurgling, wailing and angry screams above her. To her right, she knew there was a gap. Rolling through it, she landed in a crouch, spun around and opened her eyes and what she saw at that moment could only be described as disturbingly beautiful.

In their excitement, they had swung too early and by the time they had noticed that she had disappeared, it was too late. The momentum sent each of their weapons slamming into each other. The one who had swung the morning star flail stood frozen; an axe had cleaved through half of his stomach and his own weapon hung bloodied and limp by his side. The one who had been at the receiving end of the flail was now missing half of his head, caved in courtesy of the spiked, metallic ball. Two more of the axe bearers had brought each other's end, one almost severing the other completely in half, the other being neatly beheaded. Two of the swordsmen and the remaining axe man formed an interesting sculpture of dying bodies, only held in place by the various, artistic ways by which they were impaled. One man had escaped his death. The single remaining wielder of a sword. Ignoring the bloodied mess of the others, he slowly came to meet her.

Lia stood her ground and eyed him pitifully. He was built like a bear and he didn't stand a chance. Grinning exultantly, he charged, like a man possessed. He gave no thought in regards to his attack. As far as he was concerned, her survival had been luck and victory was his. Rising his sword high, he aimed to split her down the middle. Lia patiently waited until the last second; calmly side stepped him, reversed her hold on her sword and thrust it backward through the man. There was a satisfying gasp. She glanced over her shoulder to see him wide eyed, her sword jutting through his chest. In one movement she yanked out her sword, leapt up and swung it across his neck. She watched, unblinking, as his head, still staring, toppled to the floor, followed by his body crumpling to his side. There was silence from the crowd; even the air was still. Calmly, she turned to stare at the bald headed man. Her face was expressionless. She spat once on the ground and marched back to the others. Only then did she begin to shake with rage and fear.

Eragon stormed across the empty battleground towards the bald headed fiend. He did not know what was going on, but if it put his friends in mortal danger, he intended to put a stop to it immediately. He would have attempted to argue earlier, but he had been unable to move. His disgust and amazement had held him firmly in place. The bald headed man watched him with a cruel smile at the ready. Eragon stopped inches away and shouted up at the man, all courtesy gone.

"Take me to Ajihad _this instant_!" he demanded through gritted teeth.

"As it just _so_ happens, he is ready for you. Follow me", he replied.

The bald heeded man turned and walked away. Eragon followed, his face set with determination as he vowed that he _would _have his friends released before the sun set.

The moment the fight was over, Erika left the girl's side and appeared at the back of the crowd that had gathered to watch. Her face was livid, her lips a thin line and her eyes wild. _Never_ would she have played a part in this if she had known her master's intention. Humiliation for the girl was what she had expected, but murder? Erika know what people thought of her, never completely sure whether to be comfortable in her presence or not. Like everyone, she had the potential for evil, but she was not. The girl had done nothing and she had unknowingly sentenced her to face what she now believed was meant to have been her death. She had been relieved when the girl was the sole survivor, it would displease her master and suddenly, that was all that mattered. He had used her and now, he would pay the price.

Marched under guarded supervision to their cell, Murtagh clenched his teeth as Lia was thrown inside. Since she had rejoined them, she had been surrounded by four, wary guards. They had removed her weapon and insisted on escorting her physically. His hairs stood on end, as two men grabbed an arm each and another two trained their weapons on her from behind. She made no attempt to struggle. With her head held high, she accepted their treatment, as if it were justified. After the fight, she had walked straight past them, avoiding their eyes. She would not speak with him and his anger made conversing with her impossible. The only thing that passed between them was their rage. The guards allowed Murtagh and Ella to walk inside the cell on their own accord and then, the door was locked.

Lia stood by the far wall, with her back to them. Feeling the immediate charge of tension in the air, Ella backed away from the both of them and huddled into the furthest corner, dreading whatever would happen next. Murtagh faced the door; his eyes bulging wider and wider, his fists clenched so tightly that the white of bone was prominent beneath his taut skin.

_Do you have any idea… even the smallest inclination as to what you just put me through?_

_I did what I thought was best for our safety and to aid our escape. The place was to be public and crowded. It never occurred to me that they would dare try anything under the eyes of others_

_I was made to feel useless! I was unable to do anything except watch you! I would have run to your aid, damning all the consequences and threat to my life if I had not thought that my actions may get you killed! I am so mad at you! I could –_

_I refuse to apologise for acting in a way that I considered to be in our best interests! It was hardly a pleasant experience for myself, I can assure you. My decision was made with our survival in mind. However, I will accept whatever punishment you deem worthy. So come…make me sorry… You have earned that right and I offer it to you!_

_I accept_ he growled back at her.

As whipped around to face her, she turned at the same time, eyeing him coolly, but making no attempt to defend herself. His shoulders heaved up and down with the build up of aggression and then he charged. Lia did not butt an eyelid as he crashed into her, arms grabbing her and slamming her against the wall, pinning her there. For a moment, they only glared at each other and then he pulled back a fist. She ignored it and continued to glare into his dark, murderous eyes. She waited for the blow, certain that she would lose several teeth. His fist shot forward, but as it did so, his hand opened and he grabbed her face and crushed his lips against hers.

Ella, who had watched their wordless interaction with great concern, abruptly turned her head away. Somehow, this moment seemed more private than all the others did and her face heated with embarrassment. She was sure that he had been about to attack her, but instead of hitting her, he had kissed her roughly, hard, pressing her back against the wall and Lia had responded in kind. Although she could not see them, she was uncomfortably aware of their heavy breathing and the rustle of their clothes as their hands wandered. This was their reunion; she had no place here. It was as if she didn't exist to them at that moment. Glad that at least they had that luxury, she forced her thoughts to leave this cell and travel elsewhere. They finally landed on Eragon, as she wondered what he was doing. Would he be trying to save them right now? Despite the background noises that made her blush, she smiled. The Rider may not be the prince of the battleground, but he was her prince and he would come for her, for all of them. With this happy certainty, she was able to relax a little, to the point where she did not notice that the sounds that had brought her such discomfort had ceased.

They stood hands on each other's faces, eyes closed and foreheads touching. They were together. They were safe. They never wanted the moment to end. The bitterness and anger was gone, all that remained was relief.

_Please… do not ever do that to me again… please..._ he pleaded.

_Never, for as long as I live_ she promised.

_I cannot lose you_ he said in earnest.

_You will never lose me… although…_

He smiled, sensing the return of her joking manner.

_If I never do that again, how on earth will I ever get you to kiss me in such a punishing way?_

_Well that depends entirely on how badly you have behaved?_

_Hmm… Let me see… I challenged an elf… I killed eight men and I upset the one person that means the most to me in this world in less than half an hour?_

_That is impressively ghoulish_ he commented in approval.

_So I am guessing that you are not entirely thought with the punishing side of things?_

_I have a few things in mind, but you have to promise to hate every minute of it_ he said, brushing his lips against hers.

_You have my word_ ! she assured him with a gentle nip to his lower lip, before resting her head against his chest.

Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair. Their stillness somehow reminded him of her fight with the elf.

_And how on earth did you move so fast?!_ he asked in amazement.

_I do not know_ she confessed sheepishly.

_You were incredible! I swear! I have never seen anything like it!_

His attempt at praise somehow had the opposite affect. She became withdrawn and when she spoke, her voice was subdued.

_Murtagh… I… I do not know what it happened to me…_

_You are becoming a lethal weapon?_ he suggested happily.

_I am serious!_ she scolded him.

_If whatever it is makes you better at things you were already exceptionally good at, is it so bad?_ he asked with a tinge of jealousy.

_That is not what worries me. How? How can I do these things and why?_ her voice took on a desperate tone.

_Do you scare yourself?_ he asked seriously.

_A little…_ she admitted.

_Welcome to my world_ he replied dryly.

She sighed and tried to sense anything different within her. There was nothing different, no change and this scared her all the more. It would be so easy to just pinpoint the cause of the change, to have something to blame, but there was nothing.

_Do not be afraid_ he said, stroking her hair.

_I am not afraid, not when I am with you_

_Then you never need to be afraid again, because you are never leaving my side ever again. I want you within arms teach at all times. No more foolishness. We stay together, standing together and whoever commands otherwise can stick it up their arse _he stated boldly.

_I like the sound of that, even thought it will probably get us killed all the more sooner_ she noted.

_Maybe, but at least we could die fighting side by side. That much is all I ask_

_Murtagh…_

_Yes?_ he asked softly.

_I am so sorry…_

She lifted her face so that he could see the sincerity in her eyes. Overwhelmed by guilt for the pain she had caused him, her legs began to tremble. He slowly lowered her to the floor and crouched before her. Raising his marked palm, he held it before her. She raised her own and reached forward until their palms touched, fingers linked and that magic fused them together. Their link was suddenly intensified by their emotion, causing them both to inhale sharply and then shiver. Something had happened. Their bond was stronger, their awareness of each other keener and their need to never be apart in any way was permanently sealed.

Unable and unwilling to unlink their hands, Lia edged forward and gently touched her lips to his. The kisses were small and soft and with each one, she muttered the two words, "_I'm sorry_" over and over again. With each repetition, she meant it more and more and could bear the trauma that she had caused him less and less. Her guilt was only made greater by his complete and utter forgiveness. And yet, despite her sorrow, she found her kisses becoming more urgent in her grief and in turn, his relief and gratitude for her safe return only drove him to respond just as, if not _more _eagerly.

She guiltily half wished that they were well and truly alone. Hearing her thought and learning that she was _finally_ suffering the way in which he was, made it somehow easier to pull away from her. She sighed heavily in disappointment and frowned at her friend, who was smiling to herself.

_I could just knock her unconscious. I promise she won't feel a thing?_ Murtagh suggested a little too convincingly.

Lia shot him a look, but she didn't outright refuse him. Murtagh grinned; flattered that she was desperate enough to even _consider _the option. Deciding to be her conscience in its absence, he sighed, half smiled and thought the one word that seemed to mock him every time that it entered his mind.

_Tomorrow…_

_Oh all right…_ she pouted.

He laughed and lay himself on his back, this time with his head on her lap; their hands remained linked. Lia played with his hair and they both shut their eyes, peacefully. Ella continued to daydream about her gallant rescue. The three sat in a content silence. No one wanted to think of how long this short-lived moment would last.

Eragon's hands twisted in his lap as he concluded his tale to the leader of the Varden. The version he had told had been dramatically condensed. His worry for his friends had urged him to rush through his story and skip parts entirely. How could he sit here and talk whilst the bald headed man was free to cause harm? Ajihad leaned back in his chair and surveyed Eragon though patient eyes.

"There is much that you do not tell me Rider. May I enquire as to why?" his voice hinted his disapproval.

Composing his features and assuming a reasonable tone, Eragon voiced what he now saw as his sole purpose for being sat in this room. His duties as a Rider were no longer his priority. He saw their faces in the back of his mind and it strengthened his resolve.

"My friends-", he was interrupted by a long and hard sigh, as Ajihad reluctantly shook his head.

"Your friends have given us no reason to trust them and they neglect our laws. There is nothing I can do"

"There must be something! Please! Will you meet them at least? Look upon them and see that they are no threat. I cannot do anything that you require until I know that their safety is guaranteed. Could they at least be moved to a less foreboding holding area? It burns my heart to know that they have been rewarded this way, after months of sacrifice to aid my cause. I owe them much my lord. I need to know that they will be safe", Eragon pleaded.

Ajihad frowned down at him and raised a thoughtful brow.

"Your dependence on these people is unacceptable. A war is coming and I do not mean in months or years, it may come as soon as tomorrow. An army of Kull marches towards us and we need to be ready. If I agree to meet your comrades and do only what is in my power, will you agree to fight? To be what these people need to you to be?" he asked, linking his fingers.

"Yes!" Eragon agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

"I must warn you though Rider, I am an excellent judge of character and if I see something that I do not like, some threat to my people, they will remain where they stay. Do you understand our agreement?" Ajihad asked, extending a hand, "Do we have an accord?"

Thrusting out his hand, Eragon sealed the agreement.

"We have an accord", he stated, before asking, "Can we see them now?"

"Very well", the leader of the Varden agreed.

Together, they rose and headed out of the office and back towards the tunnels of the mountain. Unaccompanied by his dragon and in the light of day, Eragon could have passed as anyone. The residents of the secret group were visible, as was the carved and chiselled face of Farther Dur, but none of these things could grasp his attention. His mind was focused happily on the thought of the look on his friend's faces when he set them free. Finally, he could repay a fraction of his debt to them. If he could save their lives just the once, it would never compare to the vast amount of times they had saved his, but it would certainly be a start. Striding in the shadow of Ajihad's steps, he was too pleased with himself to allow the fact that someone else was ridiculously taller than he was to bother him. This was the first positive moment since he had entered the mountain and he chose to embrace it.

For once, Ella was the first to notice the approaching steps. Maybe it was because she was waiting for her rescuer? For whatever reason, she sprang to her feet and ran to the door. Grabbing the small bars on the window, she pressed her face against them and struggled to see down the hallway. What she saw had her positively squealing in delight. Murtagh and Lia stared at her, giving her a quizzical look.

"It's Eragon! He's coming and he looks like he's brought someone important. I knew he wouldn't let us down!" she gushed.

Their faces turned to stone and the smile slipped from her face.

"Wh-what?" she asked, a little frightened by their reaction to what _should _have been the best news that they had ever heard.

A look passed between the two of them, a knowing look. She did not think that they had spoken. The look held too much emotion for words. Slowly they rose; hands clasped tightly together, to the point where she thought they would snap each other's fingers off. They pressed themselves against the wall, but faced the door. Their expressions were neither happy, nor sad or anxious. Their faces were empty. Their stance however betrayed their coolness; every muscle in their body was stiff. They did not appear to breathe.

As Eragon and the tall, ebony skinned man approached, followed by two guards; Ella backed away from the door. Eragon saw her and grinned, she smiled back half-heartedly, too disturbed by the reaction of the other two. The cell door was opened by one of the guards and in stepped the dark skinned man. Eragon hovered in the doorway, smiling brilliantly. Somehow, the air went cold, causing Ella to shiver. The dark skinned man eyed her critically and then nodded to himself. He then moved his eyes to Murtagh and Lia. He froze. His eyes widened and then narrowed, as his brows bunched together and his features twisted in disgust.

The second his eyes moved toward them, they knew, like they had always known. Of course Lia had always hoped, but now, as Ajihad's eyes refused to move from Murtagh's face, she knew that this was it. There was no hope. She had been wrong. He had been right. He had always been right. Glaring back at the leader, Murtagh's teeth clenched together so hard, that all the veins on his neck stuck out prominently.

"_Murtagh_!" Ajihad spat.

"You _know_ each other?" Eragon asked, surprised by the venom in the man's tone.

"_This_ is the _son _of _Morzan The Forsworn_", he informed him darkly, never taking his eyes of the accused.

Eragon's mind went blank. Every thought and feeling left him. He could not speak. Slowly, unwillingly, he forced his eyes to lie upon the young man who had considered his friend.

"_No_…" he whispered, unable to believe it.

"Yes!" Murtagh laughed bitterly.

Lia did not laugh. Her eyes were fixed on Eragon and they were pleading. He could not look away from her, though the emotions were beginning to creep up on him. The betrayal… the anger. Both of them had lied to him! The lack of surprise at the revelation only proved that Lia had known. The hurt that engulfed him was beyond anything he had ever felt. It cut him so deeply that he glared back at her, fighting back the tears.

"_I trusted you! Both of you!_" he said, between shudders.

"Eragon, we have not changed! It is _still_ us!", she begged.

"_He is the son of Morzan!_ And you _knew_ that! Do you know what that _means?!_ Do you know what _evil_ he is _capable_ of?! You let him _travel_ with us! You _betrayed me!_" he yelled back at her, the tears flowing freely now.

"_I did not chose my father Rider!_" Murtagh snarled back at him.

"But his blood runs _through_ you! I can _never_ trust you! _Neither_ of you!" Eragon screamed back.

"_What_ about your _words?_ All the things that you said? Does _none_ of it mean _anything_ to you? Is _all_ that we have done not _proof _enough that it matters not of _whom _we were sired?" she argued desperately. "Eragon... _please_"

He remembered every step of their journey; every conversation, every joke, every laugh, every fight and it meant nothing. Whatever he had thought and felt before was destroyed, blown apart by discovering the truth.

"_No_… _both_ of you… You are _nothig _to me… As of this moment… you do _not exist_", he said slowly, and with great difficulty, he turned his back on his former friends.

Ajihad watched and listened to the exchange angrily, before turning to Ella and gesturing to the door.

"You! … You may leave, but _only_ under the condition that you remain with the Rider at _all times!_" he said.

Ella nodded, but made no attempt to move. She had travelled and been in the company of the son of Morzan. She had heard enough horror stories accounting Morzan's deeds to understand why people may have reacted in such a way to his son, but she could not. In her mind, they were two separate, completely different people. He may have been the son of a man who had been considered the essence of all evil, but he was still just _Murtagh_, _Lia's Murtagh_. The man, who she decided could be no other than Ajihad himself, stood tense and ready, as if he feared Murtagh may embark on a killing spree at any moment. She would have laughed had she not been so close to the point of breaking down.

Both Murtagh and Lia only radiated the injustice of their treatment and their anger. Only Eragon's reaction had shocked her more than the revelation itself. Just like _that_, he had disowned them! Suddenly _all _that she could feel was rage. How could he?! How could he do this to them?! She made her decision. She would leave the cell, but with _every_ intention of making him see the error of his ways. Glancing at the two warriors, she wished to catch their eye one last time, to let them know that _she_ was on their side, but they only had eyes for the leader of the Varden. They simply glared at the man who would decide their fate. Hurrying out of the cell, she did not want to hear the words. Racing past Eragon, he grabbed hold of her and held her to him. There was no comfort in his hold and she struggled, but his hold was firm. Instead, she tried to cover her ears, but he pinned her arms to her side. Glaring up at him, he stared back at her, his face a bitter mask, as he forced her to endure what she could not bear to accept.

"You _knew_ who he was?" Ajihad asked Lia, accusingly.

"I _learned _who he was," she corrected him.

"And you _still_ trusted him?"

"I _trust him_ with my _life,_" she stated with as much pride as she could muster through gritted teeth.

"Then _you_ are _just_ as dangerous as _he_ is and you will suffer the same fate. A war is to be fought tomorrow. If _anyone_ hears that we harbour the son of Morzan, the people's spirits will fall and we will fail. I will _not_ take that chance. This news will not leave this hall. You will remain alive for _tonight_ and tomorrow, but once this war is over, you will be interrogated by _whatever_ means necessary and you _will_ be _executed_"

Ella's eyes began to stream. Eragon's lips tightened. Turning to the two guards by the door, Ajihad gave them a hard look. They straightened their backs attentively.

"_You two_, you stay here! No one is allowed to see them! No one is allowed to speak to them! You will not feed them! You will not bring them water! They will have no light and if either of you utter a word of their presence to anyone, I will kill you myself! Am I making myself perfectly clear? I will restrict all entry, but you must stand guard by the passage entrance at all times. Do you understand?" his voice thundered.

"Yes sir!" they barked as one.

Ajihad nodded and turned back to face the prisoners. His brow creased in disapproval, for their expressions and positions had changed. They were no longer hand in hand, quivering with rage. But side by side, arms folded and a slightly bored expression etched across their faces. The behaviour seemed _unacceptable_. He thought of something to say, but words escaped him.

Their fate had been sealed. All their options ripped away and the time and means of death had been set. There was nothing more they could do. It was _over_. They had a night and a day to live out the rest of their lives. They were not about to waste it with fruitless arguments and actions. It was… _comforting_. There was no need to worry about when, where or how any more. They had all the answers that they had ever needed. It was as if some great weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Letting go of each other was not so hard, as they sought to ruffle the man before them with their sudden indifference to the situation. He had already talked for too long, eating into what little time they had left. They wished he would leave. His lingering presence was irritating. At the mild, irrational annoyance, they exchanged a brief grin, which seemed to cause Ajihad even greater offence.

"No drink! No food! No light!" he spat down at them, before turning on his heel and facing the Rider, "We leave!"

Eragon nodded and pulled Ella by the arm. She shook off his hold on her, but followed him without argument. Ajihad took the lead and they headed back to the main tunnel. The guards locked the door, gave Murtagh and Lia a wary glance, before one by one, they extinguished every light and lamp that lit the hallway.

Standing perfectly still, they were gradually thrown into darkness and as always, they took comfort in it.

"_Told_ you so" Murtagh stated matter-of-factly.

"_Yes_. Yes you _did,_" Lia agreed amiably.

"On the _plus_ side, we no longer have to worry about being polite to that blithering idiot," he stated buoyantly.

"That much is true," Lia laughed and then added on a more suggestive note, "But I think that there is a _bigger_ plus to all of this…"

"And what might _that_ be?" he asked, innocently, feigning ignorance.

She never replied. He listened with a smile as he heard the first item of her clothing drop to the floor. In the darkness, she went to him and they joined in the last possible way that they could. All too soon, it was over. They collapsed together on the cold ground, a tangle of lips, arms and legs. Their hold on each other was strong and sure and when they closed their eyes, they could see each other clearly, as if they lay in a brightly-lit room. Through their mind eyes, they gazed at each other silently. Lia sensed that he was about to speak. She knew what he was about to ask and tried to stop him with a kiss, but he moved his head away and asked the question regardless, his face solemn and his voice contrite.

_Was I worth it? _

_You still are _she replied, her voice sincere.

_I love you Lia. I think I always have_

_I love you too and I always will_

Cradling their faces in each other's hands, they kissed one last time and then simply lay together, as one, on the freezing stone ground sharing what little time they had left in each other's arms.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 

Silence. Silence is a curious thing. It can last for minutes or for hours. It can be comfortable or excruciatingly painful. Silence can often speak volumes. That night, for a long while, nothing but silence existed between the four. No one could sleep and nobody spoke. They each existed in a state of nothingness and each hour that passed felt like a year.

Ella sat on the edge of the lee, which posed as the landing surface to the dragon hold, and she sat alone. There was no dragon and the Rider sat in his quarters. Of Saphira, there had been no sign. Glancing down, she saw the steep drop below and discovered that it did not bother her in the least. The wind was cold and she was far from appropriately dressed for the weather conditions this high up in the mountain, but there was something about the bitterness that she craved. She had never felt more aware of her surroundings, more alive or more devastated than she had then.

A war was coming in a matter of hours, her comrades were to be executed and the only person that could have helped them had turned his back on them. What was this life that she had found herself living? What kind of world did she live in where things happened so quickly? It was as if life itself cared not whether those it tampered with were prepared or not! Suddenly, the simple, dragged out, pitiful existence within her cell did not seem as terrible as she had once thought.

Would she die tomorrow? Would they all die? That was what wars were about, wasn't it? Death. Someone had to lose. There had to be a side that would be thwarted. Really, how often did the side of good ever defeat the bad? This place was one, big death trap. If the enemy found their way inside, they would all be cornered. How ironic! To die in the one place they had deemed safe for who knows how many years! It seemed as though she had been living off borrowed time. She had been meant to die. Her rescue had only postponed the inevitable.

Had it been worth it? Experiencing all that she had, only to have it end so soon. How could she sleep when this may be the last time she would be alive? How could she sleep, knowing that her friends were going to be tortured and killed? How could she sleep when all that waited for her when she awoke was death? She wished that things had turned out differently. What she would have given to have just one more evening with the three of them and Saphira. One last evening as friends.

The wind began to pick up, causing her to shiver once more. Pulling her legs off the edge, she hugged her knees in an attempt to warm herself. No matter how cold it became, she would not go inside. She was not ready to face him and she wondered if she ever would be. He had once been her beacon of hope and now, she didn't know what he was. He was a stranger now. There was no one left that she knew or whom she loved on any level whatsoever. The howling wind masked the sound of her sudden sob. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she let the tears fall, but she would not cry out. She would be brave; she promised them, she promised herself. With tears streaming and freezing against her cheeks, she accepted that once more, she was alone and this time, there would be no way out.

Despite the roaring fire, Eragon was cold. He did not want to be alone, but who was there to sit with him and comfort him? The moment that he had told Saphira the news, she had blocked him out and hadn't uttered a word. He hadn't seen her since the morning and a part of him worried that he may never see her again. Whatever disappointment and horror he had felt at the revelation was nothing compared to the waves of emotion that he had felt rolling off Saphira's consciousness. Even from within the tunnels of the mountain, he had heard her agonised roar. It was difficult to ascertain what had upset her more – their betrayal or his words? He refused to believe that she would feel any differently than he, but then again, Ella's reaction had been unexpected. She seemed furious with him! With _him_!?!

This had gone on long enough. Ella hadn't said a world and once they were finally alone, she had stormed away to be as far away from him as possible. It made no sense. Here he sat; desperate for company and she was so close. Surely she craved the presence of another as badly as he did? This was ridiculous. This bizarre behaviour could not last. Sucking up his pride, Eragon picked himself off the floor and made his way out to the ledge.

The moment he turned the corner, he felt the wind and his arms crossed tightly across his chest and he began to rub his arms. It was freezing and there, like a statue, coated in a fine layer of snow, was Ella. He ran as quickly as he dared to her side, careful not to slip over the edge and take her with him. He put an arm around her shoulders. The perfect stillness she had maintained then fell apart as she shook him off. Her face contorted as if something vile has just touched her. He stared up at the snow that was beginning to fall thickly.

"Ella _please_! You _must _come inside! You will _freeze_ to _death_ out here!" he pleaded.

"_No_!" she protested through chattering teeth.

"If you stay out here you are going to _die_!" he begged, daring to touch her arm once more.

"Why the _hell _would _you_ care if I live or die?!" she retorted, jerking her arm away from him.

"Why would you say such a thing?" he demanded, his expression bewildered.

"Because _apparently_, you don't give a shit about your _friends_!" she shouted at him.

His face turned stony.

"I give a sh-" he composed himself. "I care about _you_", he corrected her.

She gave a harsh laugh and threw him a dirty look.

"They were your friends _too_ and they did more for you and I could ever _dream_ and _this_ is how you treat them? _This_ is what you _do_ to them? _This _is the _thanks_ they get? You leave them to _die_? If that is how you treat people you care about, you can go _right _ahead and take a jump off this bloody _cliff_!"

Mouth tightening, his brow puckered and he shook his head.

"What part of their betrayal do you not understand?" he asked in a scathing tone.

"What _betrayal_?!" she shrieked louder than necessary.

"He is the _son of Morzan_ and _she knew_!" he yelled back at her, over the ever-increasing wind.

"So bloody _what_?!" she snapped back at him.

"Ella _please_! See _sense_!" he begged in earnest.

"There is no sense to _see_! You are hating him for something he is _not_!"

"It isn't what he _is_… It's what he could _become_…" he responded, his voice cutting.

"And what about you?! What about the rest of us? We _all_ have the ability to become monsters! He chose to _help_ you Eragon! Lia would _never_ have given him a chance if she believed that he had posed a risk! He is a _good_ a man as _any_ and _better _than _most_! Your narrow mind _appals_ me Rider! You are supposed to be our saviour, our hope and yet, the only monster that I can see at this point in time is _you_!" she bellowed back at him and taking a leaf out of Lia's book; raised a fist to issue an angry blow.

Her limbs were frozen, stiff and slow. Eragon watched in disbelief as she pulled back a shaking arm and struggled to close her fingers into a fist. He grabbed her arm and held it in place, watching her sadly as she glared at him with harmful intent.

Was what she said true? Was _he _really the monster? Had he been wrong to react in the way that he had? Was this why Saphira had not uttered a word? Was this why the girl that he supposed that he loved was looking upon him with hateful eyes? Had he been wrong? Could he have done anything regardless? Hadn't he already formed an agreement with Ajihad stating that if the leader deemed them a danger, they would remain where they were? Regardless of his reaction, Ajihad would have called for their execution none the less. But was the way in which he responded to the situation so important?

Under the force of Ella's accusing eyes and the raw elements that surrounded him, things began to fall into place. The shock was still there, but the memories that he had fought to suppress came crashing down upon him. Happy memories…memories of his friends. His hand slipped from Ella's arm and fell limply by his side. He could not look at her when he spoke.

"I…I didn't know what to think. It just… Ella… _What have I done_?"

His voice was so low; it was a miracle that she had heard him. She lowered her weak, pathetic fist and eyed him coolly.

"They knew they would die here," she informed him in a disgusted tone. "They knew it _all along_. They _knew_ that they didn't stand a chance. They knew there was _nothing _you could do to help them, but what _you_ did… the _things_ you said… for all of it to end in _that_ way. You are _never_ permitted to see them again and _that_ is how they will _always_ remember you…the way you _were_. So save your pity and save your remorse for someone that _cares_ Rider"

"I…I wish there was some way that I could-", he began.

"_Ifs?! Buts?!_" she cut in. "They mean _nothing_! You can't change what happened! _Congratulations_! You defecated on _two_ of the best friends any person would be _more_ than lucky to have! There is no turning back time! Ajihad will _not_ let you return to them and the _only _memory you left them with was one of _hate_! Just leave me alone Eragon! There are _no_ words that describe the revulsion I feel toward you right now!"

Pushing him away from her, she returned to hugging her knees and willed the cold to numb her anger and take away her pain.

Eragon did not move; he only stared blankly ahead. There was a moment where a sudden sense of emptiness swept over him and then, the dry retching began. Falling to his side, his arms wrapped around his cramping stomach as his insides tried to rid themselves of contents that did no exist. His heart sped up as the panic hit home and the helplessness that followed had his hands grabbing clumps of his hair, pulling hard.

"_What have I done?!_" he hissed through his tight jaw, before losing control, leaping to his feet and screaming through the shrieking wind and thick falling snow. "**WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?!?!?**"

His breaths came in shuddering gasps, his scream unheard to any, but Ella. The tears left frozen trails across his face as he fell to the ground, a heaving, sobbing mass. Without thought, he reached out to Ella, seeking her touch.

Ella watched as the realisation of his actions dawned on him and listened as he cried to the skies. Her anger flared past anything she had thought possible. At least he could now see what he had done. Now it was a guilt he would have to live with for the rest of his life. He deserved this anguish, this pain. He deserved it and any other misfortune that followed. His arm drifted towards her, seeking her comfort. He would receive no such thing. She too craved the touch of another, but she did not want it from _him_.

"_Too little, too late Rider_", she sneered down at him and then cast her teary eyes aside.

Together, they sat, several feet apart, trapped in their own misery and crying until there were no more tears left to cry.

Saphira flew over the mountains. What did it matter how she exposed herself? The war was coming, the enemy knew their whereabouts and there was no where left to hide. She wanted nothing more than to be alone. Her dream, had left her this feeling of unease, but what Eragon had told her had brought a fresh agony that dulled all her other thoughts and feelings. They had been travelling with the son of Morzan The Forsworn! This offended her greatly. She had never adjusted to Eragon's use of Za'roc, but to know that the sword's rightful heir had been travelling with them all along disturbed her no end and yet…he was just _Murtagh_. Never had she felt that he posed a danger to them. The son of Morzan he may have been, but he was something _else_ entirely.

Yes, it appeared that he _too_ had no aversion to taking lives, but then _again_, neither did his female counterpart. At the thought of Lia, a soft plume of smoke jetted from her nostrils. She had trusted Lia and somehow, for some reason, she still _did_. How could she not trust them? _Both_ of them! The revelation brought a natural sense of discomfort, but _without_ them, they _never_ would have survived.

She was proud, knowledgeable and arrogant at times, but she was not ungrateful. They owed them too much. They owed them possibly more than they could ever repay and now they would die and there was no changing their fate. They would die recalling Eragon's words and opinions and assume that she felt exactly the same!

For a long while, she had closed herself to her Rider, too angry to hear whatever more he had to say and then she heard it. The cry had pierced through her barriers; the swell of emotion and regret that she had known would surface in time. Stopping mid-flight, she hovered in the air, torn between her need to be by herself and the anguish of her Rider. The consequences of his actions may have dawned on him much, _much _later than she had hoped, but still; he had learned his mistake. Adjusting her flight path, she headed back to the dragon hold, to both comfort and mourn with her Rider.

Erika flitted restlessly up and down the tunnel, her thoughts running wild. No one had seen her follow Ajihad and the Rider down to the cells and nobody had seen her leave. When she had heard enough, she had disappeared and as always, remained hidden in the shadows, waiting.

Everyone had left, leaving only the two guards. She had spoken with them. More to the point, she had reminded them of their ordered and removed all memory of the persons within the cell. She would take no risks. Her master's influence spread far and as soon as he discovered the identity of the young man, he would stop at nothing to discover the core of his power. This way, at least, the secret would remain safe until Ajihad decided otherwise.

The question was... what should be done? Her master's plan was already foiled. By the time he realised the truth, the matter was already out of his hands… but there would still be corpses. How far was she willing to go to deny him what he wanted? Was it worth the risk and what were the chances of getting caught? Muttering profanities under her breath, she speculated the success rate of what she was about to consider. Things were about to become dangerously interesting.

Murtagh lay on his side, propping himself up with one arm, a hand curled around the back of his neck. Lia lay with her back to him. He watched as her side rose and fell with each, slow breath. With the fingers of his free hand, he traced a line from her shoulder, across her ribs and down to her waist, where his hand then remained. He committed to memory the curves of her figure and the hard muscle beneath her soft skin. Never had he been with such a woman and never would he have dreamed to find such an athletic build on a female so strangely beautiful.

Sighing contentedly, she moved backwards until her back was moulded against the contours of his chest. He kissed her shoulder and rested his chin upon it, staring down at her face that was looking up at him with a broad smile.

_Well, that was not an entirely unpleasant experience_ she said, in form or praise, lifting her head to kiss him under the line of his jaw.

_I had mentioned that I have been complimented on in the past_ he reminded her smugly.

Her brows arched and her lips curved down at the corners.

_I said it was not an unpleasant experience. I never said that I considered it to be worth the wait _ she stated brusquely.

They glared at each other for a long moment, before his arms formed a tight cage around her and his teeth clamped lightly on her ear. His breath tickled and she laughed, but dared not move for the slight, tugging pain. He nipped at her gently and did not let go.

_Take it back My Lady!_ he growled playfully.

_No!_ she protested stubbornly.

_Do it!_ he warned, biting a little harder.

_Fine! You are the best I have ever had!_ she muttered sarcastically. The truth behind her words did _not_ go unnoticed.

Removing his teeth from her ear lobe, he chuckled in delight. She rolled her eyes at him in a belittling gesture, however, the smile on her lips softened her expression.

_This is rather fun!_ he exclaimed unexpectedly.

_Fun?_ She repeated the word slowly, amused by his outburst and also a little confused.

_Immensely so! I take great pleasure in annoying you. It is most satisfying to find new ways in which to do so_

_New "naked" ways_ she stated wryly.

_Even better!_ he remarked with glee.

_I am so very happy for you_ she replied dryly.

_But I am happy_ he said in a tone so honest, so sincere that there was no doubting him.

Rolling over onto her other side, she faced him once more and he pulled her close. Tilting her head upwards, she searched for his lips. Upon finding them, she kissed them softly and he kissed her back. When he pulled away from her, she heard a small moan of disappointment and was surprised to know that it had come from her. He laughed and placed a finger to her lips.

_There had better be a good reason for this_ she grumbled.

There is. There is still one, final thing that we need to decide 

_You cannot be serious?!_ she whined.

_I am perfectly serious_

She sighed, defeated.

_What is there possibly left to contemplate?_ she asked, her tone dubious.

_How we are going to die_ he said offhandedly.

Lia's brow furrowed in the darkness, as she thought about the relevance of his question.

_Well… they wish to question us –_

_Not going to happen _ he interrupted her.

_And then they will execute us_

_There is another option…_

_What might that be?_

_We give them reason to kill us sooner…_

She could hear the grin in his voice as he sought of ways to cause more trouble on their way out of this world. Grinning in turn, she shook her head and laughed.

_It will not work. There will be too many of them. They will only seek to restrain us if we try to attack and they will succeed. Although.. It would be rather entertaining…_

_Unless…_

_What?_

_We do not attack them…_

_Murtagh, speak plainly! I do not know what- oh…_

The meaning of his words sunk in and a sudden thrill of fear and nausea caused her body to turn rigid in his arms. In comparison, he was calm, relaxed. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and when he spoke, his voice was wistful.

_Think about it Lia. None of these bastards deserve to kill us. It would be an insult! A disgrace! But if you were the one to issue the killing blow, it would be an honour. We would be quick, merciful. A few seconds, it would be all that we need. A second to rip the swords from two of them and a second to pierce each other through the heart. We could do it; our aim would be true. I would sooner die at your hand, than at theirs. It would certainly leave an impression. We are going to die no matter what we do. This way, at least we leave this place together…_

Lia imagined the moment he described and knew at once that it would be the easiest thing in the world. Their actions would be completely unexpected and it would be over in the blink of an eye. She visualised grabbing the nearest sword, spinning around and sinking the blade into his chest as his own sank into hers. She saw the moment that they would crumple to the floor and the few seconds where their dying eyes would meet and focus on nothing else and then… then they would be gone.

Gulping hard, she began to shiver. How curious it was to suddenly fear death after practically welcoming it and facing it every day. Sensing her distress, Murtagh wrapped his arms tightly around her and rubbed her back. Hearing the echo of her fear, he wished that there was some way in which he could comfort her, but what could he say?

_What frightens you more My Lady, death at their hands or by our own?_

_I do not fear death…_

_Then what do you fear?_

_Whatever comes after…_

What do you think comes after death? 

_I do not know… Some invent romantic tales of rejoining your loved ones… Others say that there is nothing… You merely cease to exist…_

_No body knows My Lady. It is only a mystery solved when we each experience our passing from this life_

_What do you think happens?_ she asked, unable to keep the hope from her voice.

There was a long pause before he spoke again and when he did, his voice was controlled and careful.

_For a long time, I believed that when we die, that is it, we become nothing and I never cared. Even if there was an afterlife as such, I was the son of Morzan and there would be no place for me there. You have to understand, for years, I was convinced that I was a soulless creature. Any deed that I had done that may be considered good had nothing to do with my beliefs. I had no beliefs. To be perfectly honest, I still do not. _

_I oppose Galbatorix because I want to be everything that was father was not. I was sure that I was doomed to the fiery pits of hell and then, I met you… You made me feel things that I never knew I was capable of. True affection. Love. You changed me and since I have been feeling these things, since I have been sharing your consciousness, I believe that I do have some redeeming qualities, some point to my existence and some form of soul._

_I cannot tell you what awaits us, but I can tell you that all I want on the other side is you. Every second before we die, I will think of nothing but you and if I can, I will reach out to you and take your hand one last time because I want to believe that wherever we go, we will be together…_

Something wet splashed against his arm and he realised that she was crying. Before he could offer her comfort, her hands pressed his face against hers and through streaming eyes; she kissed him with all the passion she could muster. Plunging his hands into her hair, he kissed her back. Pulling away for a moment, she moved her lips to his ear.

"I will kill you and I will find you on the other side. I will always find you", she whispered.

"I know you will", he muttered against her cheek.

"I promise", she said, moving her lips to the corner of his mouth.

"I swear it", he mumbled against her lips, before kissing her roughly in earnest and mounting her one last time.

Still sobbing with his head hung down, Eragon never heard Saphira's return. The wind drowned out all sound and the air that beat down upon him from her usual flapping wings was nothing in comparison to the icy blasts that hit him now. All he knew was that one minute he was completely alone, in spite of Ella's presence and the next, he was not. His dragon sent him a wave of sorrow, before nudging him to move with her head. He could not. Ever so gently, like a lioness dealing with a cub, she grabbed the back of his tunic in her mouth and hoisted him to his unsteady feet, from where she slung him across her back. Letting himself be carried, he stared through the blizzard at Ella's unmoving figure, until they rounded the corner and the sudden warmth had this grief ridden, unknowingly exhausted body thrown into an involuntary sleep. He never felt Saphira slide him off her back and roll him close the fire.

Looking down upon her Rider, she knew that this was all that she could do for him now. There were no words that could be said that would change what had happened. This was something he would have to deal with in his own time. She had ensured that he at least got some sleep, before their days of war commenced. Satisfied that he was at least comfortable, she padded back outside, until she was perched on the ledge beside Ella. Ella's eyes flickered briefly to the side, but she made no attempt to speak. What did Saphira know of this girl? Not much, but enough to see that the night's events had brought her a grief similar to her own. Lowering her head to Ella's level she slowly moved it towards the girl.

Hesitantly, Ella leaned back, unused to being in such close proximity to the dragon. Nervously, she wondered if Saphira was angry with her because of her attitude towards the Rider. She frowned. If that were the case, then even the mighty dragon would have to accept that her behaviour was just. Glaring defiantly, she hoped that the swirling snow would hide the fear in her eyes.

_Come child… come inside and be warm_ the gentle, soothing voice rang within her mind.

If she had been any closer to the edge, she may have toppled over the edge in surprise. As it was, she rolled backwards, before sitting herself up once more, red in the face despite the cold. Saphira was speaking to her! She never thought it possible and then she realised that the dragon could probably speak to anyone. What was her weak and untrained mind to this mythical beats?! Having no inclination as to how these things worked, Ella responded aloud.

"To what purpose?" she asked.

_Believe me when I say that I understand your pain. I am far from happy with my Rider myself, but there is no need for you to suffer as a result. Come inside, sleep and regain your strength. You will need it for when the war is over. You will need it to help me knock some sense into the fool_

"You are forgiving Saphira and a better being than I. I don't know if I can move past this. This was no simple mistake or accident. His behaviour cost our friends' lives… How do you forgive someone for something like that?!"

_He is my Rider. I have to. I feel their loss greatly already, but I have no choice. I know Eragon better than he knows himself. The words he said were utterly rash and due to his shock. He now sees the error of his ways and his guilt will consume him until the end of his days. As a result of our bond, I also share his pain and guilt. He is a good boy Ella, just prone to reactions and words without thought... and overreactions that have now cost him two of the greatest companions he could have ever had. This was a hard lesson that he had to learn and we shall all suffer as a direct result, but I cannot give up my hope in him and I beg of you to give him a second chance. He needs you now more than ever. Your presence alone would mean much. I know it is much to ask. Either way, you really should come inside. I have learned of the death of two of my Rider's former friends. I do not wish to see you freeze to death when I still have some control over the of those who I know…_

Saphira's eyes burned into hers with feeling and Ella found the strength to push herself to her feet. She cast the snow-capped peaks of the mountains one last glance, before staring at the welcoming mouth of the cave behind her.

"Very well. I will stay, but I will not speak. I will remain for the duration of the battle, but then I leave. I cannot stay here much longer. Not when all I can see is their faces every time I close my eyes…" she said quietly.

Saphira bobbed her head in assent. Ella stood and stared at the dragon, her expression ambivalent, before she spoke.

"He is lucky to have you Saphira. For all his mistakes, he has your everlasting love and support. I wonder if you give him more than he deserves, but as our saviour, he will need all the help he can get... take care of him. I fear it is a task too difficult for the rest of us humans to undertake. It appears that with great power, comes great stupidity. I doubt that he will ever reform bonds or friendships that compare to what we had ever again. Indeed, you are a noble being. The task set to you, I believe to be even greater than saving the world!" she laughed bitterly, before her tone turned sombre. "For all my refusals and denials, I think I may have been in love with him you know?… It only makes it worse to endue. I fall in love with the one person who kills the girl who was a sister to me and the silent, brooding young man who I suppose was a big brother of sorts!"

Her closing throat then choked her laugh as her eyes filled with tears. Shaking her head, she rubbed the tears from her eyes and gazed at Saphira sadly, whom stared back at her with glistening orbs filled with an ancient grief.

"I am sorry Saphira. The cut is too deep. I cannot stay with him any longer than necessary. What I do now, I do for the good of the people. If my presence will help him do something right to win this war, I will remain. To him, I owe nothing. I will rest now. They would not want me to grieve. Already I have insulted them with my tears…Good night..." she said quietly, then turned and left.

Saphira followed Ella into the cave and watched as the girl walked over to the cot. Lying herself in between the two, Saphira stared at the wall before her, depressed. Somehow the upcoming war seemed little in comparison to her Rider's future without a single friend.

The same two guards from the night before stood looking tired and irate. One absentmindedly began to scratch his rear; the other eyed him in disgust, before sticking a finger up his nose.

"_Charming_!" Erika stated dryly, as she appeared before them.

Abruptly withdrawing their hands from the offending areas, they stood alert. She wasted no time with conversation. She knew exactly what she was going to do and this part would be easy, not to mention thoroughly boring.

"Light a candle, bring the prisoner's weapons and follow me", she instructed, striding past them.

Exchanging a blank look, they nodded amiably. One lit a candle; the other grabbed the wrapped up, bundle of weapons and followed Erika down the hall towards the single, occupied cell.

Hearing the sound of footsteps and not knowing whether it was night or day, Murtagh and Lia could only assume that it was time. They rose to their feet. From the small window, they could see the hallway gradually becoming brighter. There was a sudden sense of peace and calm. In less than a minute, it would all be over.

_Ready?_ Lia asked.

_And waiting..._ Murtagh replied pleasantly.

_Do you think we should put something on?_ she mused.

_I like what you are wearing right now_ he said with a huge grin.

_A naked, double suicide… and you were worried that we wouldn't be remembered! _ she teased.

_What can I say? We make dying look good_ he laughed.

And then all their attention was on the door, as they focused on maintaining their bravado. There were three sets of footsteps, the chinking of weapons and the rattling of keys. They expected to see soldiers or Ajihad or _even_ the bald headed man. They did _not_ think they would see the two familiar green eyes or the beautiful face that glanced inside their cell. The girl pulled a face and turned her back to them with a huff.

"_Get dressed_!" she ordered, sounding annoyed.

"We are rather comfortable actually", Murtagh informed the back of her head.

"Unless you wish to escape from this place in nothing but your own skin, I suggest that you clothe yourselves this _instant_!" she shot back at him over her shoulder.

Taken aback, they were momentarily stumped by her words and the lie behind them which they could not find.

_Is this some form of trick?_ Lia asked, failing to keep the desperate hope from her voice.

_I do not know…_ he answered uncertainly.

Erika sighed impatiently.

"I do not have _time _to explain my actions, but I can _assure_ you that this is the _only _opportunity you will _ever_ have to leave this place _alive _and _unscathed_. I have your weapons and I will tell you the way. All _you_ need to do is _run_. Now, I do _not_ have all day! Do you _stay_ or do you _live_?" the beautiful girl asked.

_If this is a trap…?_ Lia asked.

_Our plan will not change…_ he assured her.

Without further discussion, they picked up their scattered clothing and dressed quickly. Erika listened to the sound of the rustling and when it stopped, she stepped away from the door.

"The candle and the keys if you please", she requested from the candle bearing guard.

He handed her both items without question. Unlocking the door, she swung it wide open. Murtagh and Lia stood watching her warily, their fingers flexing eagerly, awaiting the hold of a weapon.

"Lay their weapons on the ground and then take two steps back", the strange girl demanded.

In disbelief, they watched as the man knelt down and unrolled the bundle that he had been carrying. There, before them, lay every blade that they owned. Never taking their eyes off the man whom had obediently stepped away; they re-attached their belts and concealed their daggers. Their swords remained in their hands, at the ready.

Erika studied their positioning curiously. Their bodies were slightly angled towards one another. It seemed an interesting stance to assume and she would have studied their behaviour, had she not made a valid point; there _was_ no time.

"_You_", she addressed the guard beside her. "Go and stand by your friend".

The man entered the cell and stood beside his colleague. Erika turned her mesmerising voice to the two people that it did not affect, without sparing the fact a second thought.

"Come out of your cell. Now."

They complied without the aid of manipulation and edged past the guards who watched them, looking equally uneasy. When they were standing by the strange girl's side, she locked the cell door once more. The new occupants turned to face her with anxious eyes.

"_Uh-huh_", she said, wagging a finger from side to side. "No questions! In fact, I think it best if you forget how to _speak_ for a day or so. Now, go and sit on the cot".

They sat.

"_You_. Put your arm around his shoulders. Don't be _shy_!" she laughed.

One gingerly put his arm around the shoulders of his colleague, who eyed him worriedly.

"And _you_, rest your head against his chest."

Despite his reluctant expression, he complied.

"The two of you look _very_ comfortable. Now, you do _not_ remember who we are or _how_ you got here. You are going to _sleep _for a day and wake up with a _very_ nice headache. So… _sleep._"

Instantly their eyes closed and they slumped back against the wall, fast asleep. Erika smiled at the sight, before turning a glare on the _should-be-escapees_ that for some _unknown_ reason had remained rooted to the spot by her side. With her hands, she shooed them away, giving them a strange look.

"Well, don't just stand there! You have your weapons! _Be gone_! At the end of the hall, turn right. Follow the tunnel until you reach the large chamber. There are two tunnels that lead out of there. The one on the left will take you to the cave at the top of the waterfall. Unless you fancy breaking your necks, I suggest you take the tunnel straight ahead. That will lead you underneath the waterfall. You will face no resistance. Our enemies will attack us form within the mountain on the other side. Your path will be clear. All soldiers and watchmen have been repositioned where they are needed. There is a war today and no one will think to check up on you. You are free. If you run, you can make it in less than half a day. _Now go_!" she whined irritably.

"_Why_?" Murtagh had to ask, as he grabbed Lia's hand and an excitement passed between them. They were going to _live_!

The girl shot them a disparaging look and folded her arms. She did not seem perturbed by her lack of weapon and the armed people before her.

"Do not _delude_ yourselves by thinking it is because I _care _about your fates in any way. Your freedom merely ensures that I wreak my revenge on one who has never tasted my wrath. This is an act of _personal gain_. The fact that it benefits you in _any way_ is merely _luck_ on your part. Now, do you wish to stand gawking at me like a pair of imbeciles or do you wish to get the hell out of here?!" she muttered, walking forward and ushering them away in exasperation.

There was something in the pure selfishness of her reasoning that made her words easy to believe. Murtagh smiled grimly. He did not thank her. There was no reason to thank the girl and she knew it. Spinning around, he ran, pulling Lia along behind him. Lia had a split second in which to throw the girl an unusual look, before she let go of his hand and ran by his side.

Erika watched impatiently as they hurtled down the hall and then out of sight. When they were gone, she took a minute to test the outcome of the moment. How did she feel? She felt dissatisfied. Freeing them has been dull. There was some satisfaction gained from the look on her master's face when he eventually found out what he had lost, but something was missing.

Tapping her index finger against her pursed lips, she gazed into the cell at the two guards. A mischievous smile played upon her lips.

"You with your arm around his shoulder… Why don't you place your other hand on the inside of his thigh?"

The sleeping man's hand obeyed.

"And you lying with your head on his chest… I think you should very much like to do the same. _Go on_!" she encouraged.

The other man mirrored his friend's actions. Erika smirked down at the two men that lay embraced on the cot in an _extremely_ questionable position.

"Ah…My work here is done", she stated happily.

And then, she was gone.

The knocking at the door pierced through Eragon's head, ripping him from his dreamless sleep, causing him to jerk awake. He sat up too fast, his head swam and his vision clouded over. He felt atrocious. This was the least sleep he had had since he had first left Carvahall. He had barely slept. His face was tight and puffy from the crying and lack of sleep. He barely had the strength to stand and he was supposed to fight in a war?! He was scrambling to his feet, when the door opened without invitation. There, in the doorway stood Orik and Arya. Their dark expressions developed a tint of disapproval as they eyed his physical state.

Hearing a rustle behind him, he turned to see Ella sitting upright, eyes wide awake, but she looked how he felt – awful. Saphira was awake and only had eyes for the elf, who took a step inside. Arya muttered a few, soft words that Eragon did not understand, to which Saphira reacted with pleasant surprise and a smug exhalation of smoke. Too tired to think of asking about the interaction, Eragon stored the question in the back of his mind where it would undoubtedly soon be forgotten. Orik stepped forward and spoke in his gruff voice.

"Rider, it is time. The enemy approaches. There is a council meeting being held and you must attend. The girl comes with you. Arya shall give Saphira directions where to meet us. We will discuss the battle and then preparations will be made."

"Saphira knows where to take you. We shall meet you in the hall shortly Rider", Arya said, offering a small bow to Saphira, which to Eragon's surprise, was returned.

The two of them left the room, leaving the three of them standing in silence.

Come Little One… climb onto my back and help Ella 

Saphira lowered herself and Eragon assumed his usual position. Once he was comfortable, he held out a hand for Ella to take. Ella wanted to ignore it, but there was no way of mounting the dragon otherwise. Quickly grabbing his hand, she hopped onto the leather saddle and sat herself behind him. Reluctantly, she wrapped her arms around his middle and held her breath. They were ready. Saphira turned around and headed to leap off the lee.

Running at a steady pace, it was unbelievable how incredible it felt to move in such a way ever again. So certain they had been, so calmly they had panned and discussed taking their own lives. They never imagined that they would ever feel the burning of their muscles that accompanied a long run ever again and here they were, pelting along this dimly lit tunnel towards their guaranteed freedom!

They should have reserved their energy, saving every last speck to make them run all the more faster, but they couldn't help but waste a little on the grins upon their faces. Whatever fate had planned for them was well and truly _ruined_. They had followed the path life had set for them and someone _else _had intervened with the road to their doom. Maybe their escape would only give them a few more precious days? Maybe fate would catch up with them in some other way. They didn't know and they didn't care. Everybody died. There was no escaping the inevitable end of life, but whilst they had this chance, they would take it. They ran at a perfectly matched pace and occasionally glanced at each other, smirking, taking in the appearance of the other.

Escaping death brought a whole new appreciation towards the smaller, less pleasant aspects of life. The revelled in the sight of the other sweating profusely, beads trailing down their arms and faces, flecks flying behind them and the heavy odour that followed them. The burning pain in their muscles after almost two days of being idler than they had ever been in the past several years, was almost pleasurable. These were all signs that they were alive. They vowed never to take anything for granted every again. From that moment on, everything would be beautiful. All thought of war, former friends and potential enemies pushed aside by their approaching freedom, they ran harder, faster and they never looked back.

The council was held in a large hall, big enough for Saphira to enter and sit comfortably. All the leaders of the groups and races spoke their views in raised voices. Occasionally, they would direct a question to Eragon, to which he would reply with the briefest of responses. He listened, but he was unable to do so properly. It was easier to only half listen, than to actually accept that in a few hours, blood would be spilled and he would be fighting whatever evil it was that they encountered head on.

Saphira grew excited at the prospect of finally being able to attack those that had hunted them for so long. Eragon could not share in her enthusiasm and a glance at Ella's dejected expression showed that he was not alone. All courage had left him. Regardless of what he had promised the leader of the Varden, at that moment, he felt like the insignificant farm boy that he was. It did not take him long to realise that his courage and will to succeed had started to slip away the moment he had accepted that he had lost the two people that had kept him strong.

Despite the encouraging words that they had always spoken, he had always felt that _they _were the ones who given him his strength. Without them, he was useless and without Ella's companionship, he felt just as alone as he had in the cell in Gil' Ead, back when he suspected Saphira to be dead.

Throughout his whole journey, it occurred to him that he had always had somebody with him, someone to look up to. Not since the early days when it had been only Saphira and he, before he knew what he was, what _they_ were – had he been without the company of another _human_. First there was Brom, who was replaced by Murtagh, shortly joined by Lia and then Ella. Now they were _all _gone. Ella's presence now counted for little; the hostility that emanated from her was almost tangible.

For whatever reason she stayed, he did not understand and he could not bring himself to ask. He craved for her to speak to him, to look upon him; even to scold him for his tragic mistake, but he received nothing. He knew that he was being treated no less than he deserved and her continual presence posed as a painful reminder of the missing two who should have always stood on his either side. The mysterious girl, who possessed the qualities of a better Rider than he could have ever dreamed of being and the misunderstood son of Morzan. The combination of characters, including the convicted murderer that was Ella would have made him laugh, had his facial muscles not been locked in his tension.

"_We must prepare for battle!_" Ajihad's voice boomed and was met by cries and yells of agreement and testosterone induced excitement.

Broken away from his thoughts, he stared at the dwarf beside him with empty eyes. Orik slapped him hard enough on the shoulder to send him crashing into Saphira's side. Saphira considerately pretended not to notice. Righting himself and refraining to rub his sore arm, he tried to smile like the other man around him. It came out as a grimace. Orik laughed heartily.

"Come Rider! We have made armour especially for you and Saphira. Let us dress you for battle and then... we will talk tactics!" he said excitedly.

Eragon nodded and then his eyes widened as he remembered Ajihad's condition, that Ella remained with him at _all _times.

"What of Ella?" he asked cautiously.

"If we knew more of her, we would allow her the chance to fight, but as we do not, she will remain out of sight and safe. Unless of course things do not go as expected…"

"Where will you keep her?"

"In the safest place for her. The dragon hold. She will not be alone. We have assigned the perfect guard to watch over her, whilst keeping her safe", Orik assured him kindly.

"_Who_?" Eragon enquired in a suspicious tone.

"That would be _me_", a voice answered from behind him, making him jump.

After composing himself, he turned to see the owner of the voice. He stared at the beautiful girl, who appeared to ignore him completely, whose eyes were fixed on Ella and whose smile was both warm and derisive.

Ella, who had ignored Eragon's fears for her safety, only turned at the sound of the voice that brought her more discomfort than she already felt. It was the serving girl that had been sent to spy on them. The one who had been directly involved in Lia's near death. She scowled at the smiling girl.

Erika took in the girl's aggression and found herself rather looking forward to being alone with this angry adolescent. Maybe she could try a few harmless experiments of her own? Moving her now charming smile to the dwarf, she laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles. The sound somehow proved more disturbing and menacing from this fragile looking, stunning female than from anyone else. Eragon was a little frightened by the girl and her somewhat dominant aura.

"The dragon hold?" she asked in form of confirmation.

"Yes. Do you wish to escort her or would you prefer to have Saphira take her and you can meet her at the top?" the dwarf enquired casually.

"Let the dragon carry her. I'll be waiting", she replied airily.

Saphira snarled at her, Erika laughed, Eragon blinked and she was gone. After rubbing his uncertain eyes, he raised a questioning brow. His mouth hung open for a moment before he managed to speak.

"How-", he began.

"No body knows", Orik chuckled, before standing himself before Saphira.

"Saphira, would you be so kind as to carry the girl back to the cave? This place will not remain safe for long", he said, each word ringing with reverence.

Saphira dipped her head and lowered her body. Orik offered Ella a hand, as she carefully sat in the saddle and held onto the spike that she had seen Eragon hold onto so many times before. They remained still. Orik's head swung expectantly between Eragon and Ella. Saphira's eyes bore into her Rider, willing him to say something, anything.

"_Be safe Ella…_" he said softly, without looking at her.

His words were greeted with silence. He looked up to see the face that was turned away from his.

"I hope that if we make it out of this alive, that you will be able to Fo-"

"Don't!" she interrupted him with a hard, cold look.

Closing his mouth, he stared deep into her bitter eyes and saw that there would be no forgiveness. Words or actions would never be enough. Even if they won the war, even if his deeds saved the day, it would not change what they had lost. There would be no farewell, no heartfelt goodbye and no parting words of comfort. This was it. The end of whatever they had. Whatever the outcome of the battle, it was over and she would be gone. Too empty inside to even feel, he could only stare vacantly, as Saphira trudged out of the hall sullenly and then took to the sky. He had completely forgotten about the dwarf by his side and was only reminded of his presence when the rough voice grated against his ears.

"Woman trouble?" Orik asked, sounding inappropriately amused.

"Something like that…" he replied, his voice drained.

"She'll come around lad. Now clear you mind! There is nothing that gets a man killed quicker that worrying about a girl!" he laughed as he began to lead the Rider from the hall.

The dwarf was right. He could not afford to think of her anymore…or any of them. He had one last chance to _not_ make a complete mess of things and he would succeed, or die trying. Fighting his body and mind past the sleep deprivation, Eragon sought to be what now seemed the impossible, the saviour the people required.

Flying on her own was the most terrifying experience she had ever known. Ella was certain that Saphira was trying her hardest to keep her movements as fluid as possible, but it did nothing to ease her bruised behind. The flight was a short one and when her wobbling feet touched firm ground, she found herself leaning against Saphira's side for support. When she was sure that she could move away, she took her first step. Only then did Saphira's voice sound within her mind. On some level, she had expected it and it did not take her by surprise.

_Be safe Ella_ the dragon repeated the Rider's words.

"Be safe Saphira..." she replied sadly, hesitating, before laying a hand on the dragon's side in form of farewell and then, she walked away.

Saphira gave the girl one last, regretful glance and then dove back down to her Rider below. Ella took a deep breath and braced herself to deal with the unwelcome company that awaited her within. With shoulders pulled back, chin jutting out and her head held high, she strode onward to meet her enemy.

Erika had been pacing. She had been waiting for several minutes, during which time, she re-lit the fire and made the chamber seem a slightly more comfortable place. At the sound of the landing dragon, she stopped, folded her arms and waited. A few more minutes passed and then the purposeful, noisy steps approached. When the girl rounded the corner, her eyes were narrowed and she stopped short, wanting to make an impression of some sort, but unable to decide what to say or do. Deciding to make things easier, or possibly more difficult, Erika spoke first.

"Hello Ella", she greeted her in a friendly voice.

Caught off guard, Ella struggled between frowning and pouting. In the end, she settled for both. Erika laughed. The sound was enchanting. Against her will, the lines drawn across Ella's forehead smoothed out a little, but the defiant pout remained.

"I feel as if we got off on the wrong foot", Erika began. "Let me introduce myself to you properly. My name is Erika. I am eighteen years old. I am a valuable member of Du Vrangr Gata and whilst I am here to ensure your safety, I am not one whom you wish to cross. I cannot stress how unwise it would be to try anything foolish. So, bearing that in mind, why don't you play nicely with me and maybe, just maybe, for one night only, we can be friends?" she suggested cheerfully.

Ella glared back at her, contemplating various, colourful ways to say, "No thank you". It was a childish reaction, but she was past caring.

"You can take your friendship _bitch_ and _stick it_ up your _bloody arse_!" she growled.

Erika's brows rose dramatically, before she collapsed to her knees laughing hysterically. Ella muttered, cursing her inability to intimidate others or to be taken seriously. Instinctively, her mind turned to her friends. _No body ever laughs at them!_ she complained inwardly, only to be reminded that no one would _ever _have the chance. Striding past the laughing, assistant of pure evil, Ella plonked herself on the cot in the corner and made a point of ignoring the girl.

Dabbing at her eyes, Erika's laugher faded into an occasional chuckle and she looked upon the grumpy girl with something that resembled a fond expression. There was something about this young girl that was so fierce, so honest and so pure, Erika could not stop herself from admiring her and liking her, if only a little. Remaining on the floor, she swung her legs to one side and faced her charge with a grin.

"You intrigue me Ella. I wonder… what would you do if I told you to bite your own tongue?" she asked, infusing as much power as she could into the suggestion.

"I'd stare at you like you're insane?" Ella replied; her tone marred with sarcasm.

Clearly, she was still unaffected by Erika's powers.

"Stand up", Erika tried again.

Ella ignored her.

"Hmm… I _do_ wonder what it is about you that is so special", she mused. "The young man I can understand, even his strange female- they posses…_something_. But _you_? There is _nothing _remarkable about you at _all_…"

Several things that were said caused the hairs on the back of Ella's neck to stand on end. Firstly, she did not appreciate being referred to in such a belittling way and secondly, _how_ did Erika know about Murtagh? Maybe she did not, but she certainly implied that she knew _something_. Ella swore that she had never seen her during the moment of revelation. Did she in fact know or was her statement based on assumption? _Unless_ of course... she had seen them _since_. Her limbs began to tremble, as she considered the only circumstance the girl would have been made aware of his identity.

"Are- _Are they_… Have they been… _executed_?" Ella asked in a shaky voice.

"Executed?" Erika's enquired offhandedly.

The one word was said so effortlessly, so casually that Ella knew right then and there that her friends were no more. It was as if a hole had been ripped through her chest. She stopped breathing, her eyes stopped seeing. All functions ceased in those few seconds that she accepted that they were no more.

"You look pale", Erika commented. She received no reply.

Blowing the air out of her cheeks, Erika let her eyes wander around the chamber absentmindedly. What she had hoped would have brought her _some_ form of light entertainment was proving to be yet _another_ bore. The girl had obviously assumed that her companions had been disposed of, despite the fact that Erika had confirmed _nothing_. It was interesting to see how people jumped to their own conclusions when they were given no real answers. There would be no fun in correcting her. It may have been kinder, but the girl had spoken to her rather rudely. Laugh as she had, she _had_ taken offence. Erika was not one who accepted such behaviour without retaliation. Unable to issue any minor, subtle form of punishment, she settled for leaving things the way they were. The girl could suffer for a little while longer and she would correct her in the morning. Until then, there would soon be enough to watch from the safety of the ledge as the battle below them ensued. They sat in silence and waited for the first sounds of the coming war.

The hours passed. For some, slower than others. To Eragon and Saphira, time was occupied with the adjusting of armour and the planning of attack. To Erika and Ella, every minute felt like an hour, as one wished for excitement and the other for it all to be over. However, for Murtagh and Lia, time moved at the perfect pace. As far as they were concerned, _any_ time that they were now granted was a taste of heaven.

They had been running for a reasonable length of time. Long enough that in their blissful state, they were also capable of juggling other thoughts. Initially, this was a wonderful ability. As before, they began to make plans, to daydream and laugh as they decided where they would go and what they would do. Then the other thoughts began to seep though. The thoughts that they had so easily ignored before were now niggling at the back of their minds. They started off as whispers and now, the words shouted at them. There was a _war_ coming! There was a war coming and the _only_ hope was The _Rider_! What did it matter to them? They had done what they had set out to do! They got him to the Varden and they had almost died because of it. There was no further use for them. They were free. So why did their pace gradually begin to decline? Why did their run become a gentle jog and finally fall into a walk. Why had they suddenly stopped? Movement had ceased without them being aware. Standing still, they slowly turned to stare at one another, their expressions hopeless.

"_What_ are we _doing_?" Murtagh groaned, kicking at the dirt at his feet.

"_Why_ are we not moving any more?" Lia asked irritably.

The questions were pointless. They already knew the answers. Thinking them was one thing, saying them aloud was a different story altogether. It was ridiculous, preposterous, inconceivable and yet, it was happening. Against _all _that they wanted, they reluctantly faced the direction from whence they had came and glared.

"There is going to be a war…" Murtagh said, his voice bleak.

"And their only hope is _him_…" Lia finished his sentence with an exasperated sigh.

They exchanged a meaningful look and glanced over their shoulders wistfully.

"What the _hell_ is the _matter_ with us?" he complained. "We have a choice to _escape_ and we are actually _considering _going _back_!"

"He is their only hope," she said bitterly.

"_So?!_ They are _all _doomed! They were _quite _happy to _kill us_?! _Why_ do we even _care_?!"

"_You_ tell _me_…" she asked.

Roaring in anger, he punched the nearest wall and swore loudly, ignoring the pain. Wheeling on her, he flailed his arms in annoyance.

"Because this narrow minded band of rebels is the _only _cursed opposition Galbatorix faces! Because _stupid, arrogant_ and _pathetic Eragon_ is their _only stupid hope _and because without _us_ there to watch his arse, regardless of _how_ many bastards he can blast off their feet, he is _completely_ and _utterly bloody useless!_ _Damn it_ Lia! I cannot _believe_ we are _actually _doing this! We are going to _help_ his sorry arse, _save_ the damn day and go _straight_ back to plan "_a_"! I was _ready _to die before, but _now _this just feels like the _worst idea_ in the whole, long _history_ of bad ideas! Are you _listening_ to what we are thinking?! We are actually _choosing_ death?! _Who does that_?!" he yelled at her.

Lia surveyed him calmly for a few moments. Walking up to him, she yanked the front of his tunic downwards until his face was level with hers.

"Apparently, _we do_" she answered his question, patted his cheek and gave him a shrewd smile.

Together, they turned their backs on their freedom and faced what would, on this occasion, without a _doubt_, be their certain death. Murtagh slung an arm around her shoulders in a companionable way and she slipped an arm around his waist. They stared ahead with unreadable expressions etched across their faces.

"We were kidding ourselves all along. We never had a chance", Murtagh stated in a reasonable tone.

"All that happened was meant to bring us to this moment" Lia agreed.

"Maybe there will be Kull?" Murtagh pondered.

"_Maybe_ there will be enough for the _both _of us?" Lia suggested, with a trace of humour in her voice.

"I _do_ enjoy _incentive_" he chuckled darkly.

"_Shall we_?" Lia offered.

"I'll race you", he said, with a wolfish grin, before pecking her on the forehead, ruffling her hair, slapping her backside and racing ahead.

Lia watched him for a moment, feeling nothing but pride and then, chased after him as they raced to help save the Varden and then die.

As with most battles, the enemy did not wait for the opposition to be ready. They struck when the time was right for them. Fortunately, the Varden were prepared. Eragon had been ready, perched upon Saphira, Za' roc in his hand and braced for war. The enemy came. The fight began. How romanticised tales of battle were. Whatever he had expected, it had not been this. There were no fine, motivational speeches. There were no songs or united cries declaring that they would win. The enemy arrived and people merely slipped into their tasks and acted accordingly. Everything had happened so quickly. One minute they had been waiting and the next, Kull were pouring out from of hole in the mountain, which exploded into existence.

Now, they were flying, Saphira and he; swooping low, breathing flames and cutting down their foes. All this was happening and it felt as if it were happening to someone else. There had never been any songs depicting how _surreal_ it was to fight in a war. Acting and not thinking, Eragon and Saphira focused on nothing but reducing the number of Kull, that seemed to instantly be replaced every time one was destroyed.

From their great height, Ella and Erika lay flat on their stomachs, their fingers curled around the edge of the ledge, staring down upon the battle below. Unable to sit and wait, they silently agreed to watch the mayhem together. Erika watched with interest. Ella's eyes stayed focused on Sahpira and Eragon in awe, watching as they left a trail of fiery destruction wherever they passed. However, for all their efforts, the Varden seemed devastatingly outnumbered. Erika groaned beside her.

"_No _you fool! _Behind you!_" she urged one of the dark specks moving below and then shook her head. "Well, now you're dead you _useless idiot_!"

"You can see _that_ far?" Ella could not help but ask.

Erika nodded and shrugged.

"What does it look like down there?"

"Like we are losing," Erika admitted without a care in the world.

"Does that not _bother_ you?" Ella asked, unable to make any sense of the girl's attitude.

"Well it will certainly be a bad day for the people under Galbatorix's rule, but they will never find _me_", she stated easily.

"Do you have no _friends_? No _loved ones_ that risk their lives as we speak?"

"Do _you_?" Erika countered.

Ella's lips tightened and she did not reply. Erika grinned and turned her attention to the chaos below once more.

Having never passed father down the tunnel than the turning to their cells, Murtagh and Lia's only choice was to run onward and onward and onward, to the point where the adrenaline began to wear off and impatience took its place.

_I think the war is over, I think Galbatorix is long dead, the people we have known aged and the world a changed place in the time we have been running down this blasted tunnel!_ Murtagh moaned.

_Look!_ Lia cried, pointing ahead with her sword.

Ahead of them, the tunnel brightened and ended with a red glow. Elated by the sight, they closed the distance in little time and halted abruptly, taking in the scene before them. Fire seemed to be eating everything in sight and between the flames, they could make out the shapes of those engrossed in combat. There were men and Kull and for the moment, unless Ajihad himself were to spot them, they would _anybody_. For now they were free to kill without fearing death from _both_ sides. Instinctively, they looked to the sky and watched as Saphira set aflame a line a line of screaming Kull. Murtagh laughed and Lia smiled.

_He seems to be doing all right_ Murtagh acknowledged.

_For the moment…_ Lia corrected him.

_Do you feel like killing some time until he inevitably messes up?_ he asked.

Did you have anything in mind? 

_Hmmm… do you feel like a little competition or would you prefer some teamwork? _he offered.

_Frightened of losing, are we?_ she challenged him with a mischievous smile.

The one with the highest kill count before The Rider requires our assistance is the winner he stated, ignoring her jibe. 

_The prize?_

_Glory, of course_

_I accept!_

Without further word, they rushed into the midst of the battle, slashing and hacking foes with a new-found ferocity, whilst always keeping an eye on the sky. Surrounded by Kull and their blades wet with blood, they felt exultant. Already facing death, they fought as they had never fought before. Murtagh found it almost effortless, ducking out of reach and attacking the beasts that had seemed formidable those many months before and Lia found it so easy, that she laughed. Her blade sliced through the bellies and necks of her unsuspecting opponents. In comparison to Arya, everyone and anything seemed to move at a snail's pace. She had broken more of a sweat during their run than out here, in the centre of this bloodbath. Her confidence alone was enough that when shared, they were more deadly than the Kull that they fought. They were unstoppable and more than anything, they were having what they had always dreamed. The time of their lives!

Erika had dramatically lost interest in the goings on below and instead took to examining Ella's expression as her eyes followed Saphira's every move.

"Does he know that you are in love with him?" Erika asked.

Ella did not answer. Her cheeks, however, flushed.

"Maybe I was once, but not anymore," she replied, wondering why she was conversing with the vile girl at all.

"People make mistakes," Erika, for some unknown reason, muttered in his defence.

"_Not_ mistakes that get your friends _killed_!" Ella snapped.

"_All _the time!" Erika laughed, smiling down at her condescendingly. "My goodness you are a naïve girl. We humans are a stupid and passionate race. We overreact, we cause mayhem. What we often do in the best interests of others lands us causing more harm than good. Do not misunderstand me, I am sure he really _is _an idiot, but even the best of us fall off the wagon from time to time."

"So you think I should _forgive_ him?!" Ella asked incredulously.

"I honestly don't care _what_ you do. I was _merely_ stating my opinion"" Erika replied, glancing back down again.

"Keep your opinions to _yourself_!" Ella grumbled.

"You can _stop talking_ now", Erika ordered with a sly smile and a subtle glance.

"Will _you_ give _up_!?" Ella complained.

Erika only grinned. Her eyes dropped and then froze. She stiffened. Scared by her reaction, Ella looked down. Something was moving above the fight below, even above Saphira… something shrouded in darkness.

"What _is_ that?" Ella asked, her voice rising an octave.

"_That_ is trouble," Erika confirmed, the first signs of worry in her voice.

"Yes, but _what is_ it?!" Ella pressed.

"_Dark magic,_" Erika muttered in disgust.

The black shadow appeared to be creeping towards Saphira. Ella gulped hard.

"Can your people _see_ it?" she asked, hoping against hope.

Erika's head darted from side to side, staring at places too far and too concealed for Ella to see. When she was next presented with the profile of her watcher, she was not comforted to see the girl's brow creased in confusion.

"What I do _not _understand is why _nobody_ is where they _should_ be! Several posts were to be manned and yet they are _all empty_! Whatever it is should have been _dealt_ with! _Curse them_, _why_ can I not _see _them?!" Erika hissed and her eyes gleamed in such a way that Ella recoiled.

"Who?" Ella asked.

"My _Masters_! And-" Erika's voice broke off.

She turned to stone, as her eyes honed in on something far below. For a few, long moments, she stared in disbelief and then, she leapt to her feet, beside herself with rage.

"_I don't believe this! Damn you! Why?!?!" _she hollered furiously.

"_What?!?_" Ella demanded.

Unable to answer, Erika could only scowl down upon the two fighting figures that were Murtagh and Lia. Now was not the time for discussion. _They_ had to leave at _once_! She did not know what idiocy brought them _back_ here, but she _had_ to see to it that they escaped _before_ the Twins returned. The fact that her masters were no where in sight only roused her suspicions and concern further. Eyeing Ella appraisingly, she made the _only _offer she could afford.

"I cannot stay here. There are urgent matters that demand my immediate attention. I move _quickly_ and I have _no_ time for questions. If you remain here, I _cannot_ guarantee your safety, but if you stay by my side, I promise that no harm will befall you. Make your choice. _Now._"

"I _go_", Ella replied instantly.

Erika offered her a hand. Ella took it.

"_Don't_ try to move your feet!" Erika warned.

Before Ella had a chance to ask why, she was flying through the air, attached to Erika by the steely grip in which she was held. So fast they moved; that she flew horizontally through the air, her feet never touching the ground. They appeared to be spinning in circles. Ella was glad that she hadn't eaten; if she had, she would have vomited everywhere. Feeling more nauseous than she had ever felt in her entire life, she wondered _why _she had agreed to leave with the girl. It was simple; she would not sit by and watch the _last _person that she had been connected to in _any_ way _die_. It did not matter that she could not think of a _single_ thing to do; she would do something... _anything_. With eyes firmly closed and lips clamped together, she waited for the spinning to stop.

Lia was the first to notice the shape in the sky.

_Murtagh!_

Murtagh inflicted a killing blow and turned to face her.

_Up there!_ she directed him.

His eyes followed hers and his expressions turned to stone.

_Durza!_ he spat in disdain.

_Is it time?_ Lia asked.

_It is time_ he confirmed grimly.

Without discussion, they ran towards where Saphira hovered in the air, blasting jets of flame wherever the enemy lay. As they ran, they spoke. Lia relied on Murtagh's expertise in _this _particular area.

_So, you can only kill them by piercing them through the heart?_

_That is correct_

_Now, here is the interesting question…_

_Let me guess… How do you get him to come down here?_

_Well?_

_I haven't the faintest idea_ he laughed.

_Wonderful!_ she snorted a laugh.

Undeterred by their ignorance, they held pace and relied on their oldest friend in battle to see them through, lady luck.

As Saphira exhaled streams of flame, Eragon sat, sweltering in his armour and examined his blade. It seemed as though he had hardly paid contribution to the battle at all. Saphira had killed many. _He_ couldn't remember killing _anyone_. His blade was spotless and yet, down below, people were dying. He wondered how many he might have killed if he were on his own two feet or if he would have died instantly? There was another drain on his strength as Saphira built up another inferno inside her chest. _At least I am good for something_, he thought. Then the shadow fell over him and he looked up in time to see a blinding white light crashing down upon them. He had noticed too late and Saphira had seen no sign of whatever it was at all. Hit by a bolt of power, they were knocked from the air at a ferocious speed and smashed into the ground.

Erika stopped running, grabbed Ella's other hand and swing her to her feet. As the girl stood wobbling, Erika assessed the fight. Men and Kull alike now ran, screaming in terror as the shadow made itself known. It was over Saphira now; it glowed and then fired a bolt of magic upon its prey. With a sickening crunch, dragon and Rider were shot mercilessly _into _the ground. Wincing at the sound, Erika could not imagine how _either_ beings could have survived and yet, the son of Morzan and the girl _continued _on their path towards them, whilst everyone else with the _smallest_ grain of _sense_ ran in the _opposite_ direction. Ella had seen none of this, too busy regaining her sense of balance.

"_Ha- have we stopped yet?_" Ella asked, her head rolling to the side.

"_Pull_ yourself _together_ girl!" Erika snapped.

From somewhere above, she heard the pulling of bowstrings and somehow _knew_ that they were _not _meant for the shadow. Wrapping her arms around Ella's waist, she moved to where the concealed archers lay. Ajihad stood with his arm raised, ready to signal the moment to shoot.

"_Put down your bows!_" Erika commanded.

The archers obeyed, their confused eyes moving from Ajihad to her. Ajihad's turned on her, brows raised in unexpected alarm. Before he could say a word, she muttered under her breath and looked upon him with a pained expression.

"_Look_…you _never _saw me. You took a _blow_ to the head and _now_, you are going to be _unconscious,_" she informed him.

The leader of the Varden crumpled to the ground without argument, as the archers watched in horror. With all their eyes already on her, it was not difficult to manipulate them.

"_Forget_ your orders. _Forget_ what happened. Just _watch _what is going on below," she instructed.

A dozen archers turned their eyes to the sinister darkness and the sight of their hopes and dreams that lay crushed into the ground.

"You are terrifying" Ella stated candidly, before promptly passing out from the dizziness.

Ignoring her, Erika caught the girl as she fell and stared down at the now empty battlefield. The men of the Varden cowered against the mountain walls and as for the Kull; they had disappeared. Whatever this abomination was, it had been enough to drive them away. The two fools she had saved stood twenty metres away from the thing, at a guess. She had done all that she could to keep them alive. There was no way in which she could meddle in whatever happened next. She would _not _face such a monster. If they survived, it would be a miracle. With the Twins no where in sight, she only hoped that should the strange couple be killed, their bodies would at _least_ be utterly _destroyed_.

A movement caught her eye. Blinking in disbelief, she watched as the Rider emerged from the broken pile that had consisted of he and his dragon. _Unbelievable_, she thought and her eyes widened, as the shadow descended into the gap into between the Rider and his former friends.

The distance between them and Saphira was closing and all of a sudden, the thing that held Durza was above the dragon and Rider. It happened so fast. A snapping sound, a flash, a crash and then… it was over. They ran, but their legs couldn't fathom why. Just like _that_, what _little_ hope the people had, had been exterminated. There were no words to say, not thoughts left to think, nothing left to protect. _Durza_ had _disposed _of them. _Durza_ had brought about the people's end and _now_, _they_ would end _him_. Their questions unanswered and with just _one _plan, they skidded to a halt when they saw that the dark mass intended to land.

_Well this makes things easier_ Murtagh stated.

_Oh my…_ Lia gasped, suddenly ignoring the descending shadow.

_What?!_

_E-Eragon!_ she stammered.

_Bloody hell!_ he exclaimed, with a weak stomach.

With incredulous eyes, they stared as something moved from beside Saphira's still form and slowly, the tattered, shaky, broken body that belong to The Rider began to stand. Half of his face was caked in blood, his left shoulder drooped and then arm connect to it hung uselessly by his side. He seemed to place all of his weight on his right leg, the foot of the left was twisted at an unnatural angle and for all that, he held Za' roc tightly in the fist of his right hand. Even from here, they could see the tears that cut through the blood and his heaving chest, as it cost him all his effort to stay standing. His eyes were fixed on he darkness above.

For the first time, Murtagh and Lia saw him as a warrior, a fighter until the bitter end and all that he had said and done was forgotten. For the first time, they felt _proud_ to be standing here with the saviour of Alagaesia, whether he survived or not. Saphira did not move. Lia's throat tightened.

_Saphira…_ she whispered.

_We owed her much_ Murtagh said, his voice bleak.

_I don't care how we do it! I don't care what it costs! We kill this bastard!_ she growled up at the shadow with tears in her eyes.

_We can do it. We can do anything when we are together!_ he stated with passionate determination.

Reaching for her hand, she took it and their power swelled. Dropping their swords, they clenched the fists of their free hands. If they planned to fight this abomination, they would do so using the best weapons that they possessed: their minds.

Eragon was _certain_ that he was dead. _Firstly_, he was completely _alone_ and _secondly_, the pain was so _intense_, he could _only_ be in _hell_. Despite his assumption, he somehow managed to open his eyes. He was lying beside something large and the ground beneath him was cracked. Long, jagged tears in the stone spread out from where he lay. Debris was thick in the air. He watched as it slowly cleared and running towards him, were the last two people he had ever expected to see. He _must_ be dead. There was _no_ other way that they would come to him. Did they wish to add to his numerous wounds? He would not stop them. He _couldn't_ if he _tried_. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he felt it rattle in his chest. Why on _earth_ would he need to _breathe_ if he were _dead_? Everything felt so very real: the _pain_, the smell of the smoke and the way his eyes burned. Flexing his fingers, he could definitely feel the sword still in his hands. He tried to move it, but it would not budge. It was stuck. He pulled and the sword seemed to slide away from something. When the blade fell by his side, he noted the black, sticky substance that covered it, that looked remarkable like… _blood_.

_No…No… NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!_

Ignoring the pain and the seeming impossibility of the movement, he rolled to the side and stared into the unblinking, unseeing eyes of his dead dragon. He struggled to touch her scaly head, but he could barely lift his arm. This _was_ hell, but he was _living_ it. He was alone, he felt not a sign of Saphira within him and she was… _dead_. _My dragon is dead_. What had killed her?! Had it been the fall??! Had it been _he_?! So _broken_ was she, so covered in gashes and gouges that tore away chunks of her scaly hide that it was _impossible_ to tell. Even _now_, she still seemed to look at him kindly, as if it were not his fault that she lay dead and he was forced to exist without her.

Too weak to sob, too empty, too alone, there was nothing left. _Nothing_. _Nobody_. There was just the thing that had attacked them. He made a decision. He would kill it and then, he would let Murtagh and Lia kill _him_. There was no reason left to live, not anymore. With all his strength, he ignored his broken arm, his mangled foot, his shoulder and the throbbing mess that was his face. Standing sword in hand, he vowed to kill what had taken away the only being that he had ever truly loved. Somewhere in the back of his mind, where thoughts were vaguely capable of formation, he wondered if _this _is what _he_ had done to Roran. He then accepted that he well and truly did _deserve _to _die_.

The black shadow touched the ground and in a swirling vortex of smoke, disappeared to reveal the enemy that was Durza. He stood between the three of them, smiling warmly, greeting them one at a time.

"Murtagh and _Lia_, is it? How _charming_ to see you both once more! It really _is_ a pleasure! And _Rider_, you _do_ look a little worse for wear, but you fare better than your _dragon_, I _see_? _Very _well, shall we put an end to this?" the red haired man suggested politely.

"_Let's!_" Lia snarled, and without warning, or knowing _how_, she blasted an icy spherical ball of energy at him, which knocked him off his feet.

Murtagh lifted their linked hands and raised a quizzical brow.

_Did you do that by yourself, because I didn't feel a thing?!_

She grinned.

_Why don't you give it a try?_

_I don't know how to blast energy bolts?!_

_I don't think it's about knowing how. I think it's more about wanting it badly enough. Here, use my strength_ she offered.

_All right_ he accepted with a twisted smile.

Durza had just rose to his feet, when a fiery ball of something knocked him against his shoulder and threw him back down again. He grumbled something that sounded like "_Amateurs!_" before he stood once more.

"_Beginners!_" he exclaimed in mock delight. "As much as I would _love_ to waste time playing these _games_... I have a _Rider _to kill and a _King _to appease."

Turning his back on them, he prepared to catch them off guard with a lethal spell. Murtagh and Lia did _not_ appreciate being ignored.

_He is being very rude_ Lia pointed out in a disapproving tone.

_I do not think he was very impressed!_ Murtagh scoffed.

_Well then… why don't we give him something to really think about _ she challenged.

Inspired by their combusting surroundings, they visualised a fireball the size of a man, it appeared and they threw it into the back of their foe. Durza felt the heat before the flames engulfed him. With a snap of his fingers, the fire was out. Mildly irritated, he turned to face the nuisances once and for all. He would deal with them first. The Rider could barely stand, let alone walk. Offering them a sardonic smile, he clapped his hands together.

"Very well. If you want to _play_... let us _play._"

Durza held his hands, palms facing inward and slowly widened the gap between them, allowing a power to brew from within. What started off as a small ball of flames grew and grew, until his arms were spread wide and the fiery mass hid him from sight.

"You like to play with fire? Play with _this_!" he suggested, throwing the mass, sending it hurtling towards his opponents.

Before the flames could touch them, Murtagh and Lia thought of nothing but ice and the fire stayed at bay, but it was _relentless_. _This_ dark magic would _not_ stop until it had hit its _target_.

All their energy went into maintaining their icy shield, but strong as they were, he was stronger. Through the rapidly melting ice and the flickering flames, they saw the Shade smiling, as he watched their slow defeat. This assault of the bald headed man was nothing in compared to this. The effort involved now brought them both physical and mental pain. They could feel it, their energy and magic draining rapidly and the fire inching ever closer.

_Lia…he is gaining on us_ Murtagh hissed through gritted teeth.

_I… know_ she growled.

_Tell me you have a plan!_

_Just the one…_

_Whatever it is, do it!_

With what little concentration she could afford to move away from their task, Lia reached for Eragon.

_Eragon! It is up to you now! Pierce his heart! You must do it! Now! I do not know how much longer we can hold his attention!_

There was no reply. She only hoped that he had heard her and that he was able to move. Having heard her words, Murtagh said nothing. He had no hopes. Their strength was waning. Having almost run out of their personal stores of power, they would soon have to rely on each other's and they knew that _that _effort alone may be the death of them. But still, they _had_ to hold on for as long as they could.

Eragon watched as Durza attacked the others and found that despite his determination, he was too shocked, too exhausted and in too much pain to move. Trying his hardest to fight it, he took a step forward and fell, landing on his bad arm. Crying in pain, he lay writhing in agony, wishing for death. He could barely move! How could he seek vengeance?! The day was doomed! He may as well _lie_ there and _die_. And then, piercing his lonely mind, he heard it. Lia's desperate voice calling to him. They needed his help! He could _not_ fail them again.

Gasping, he managed to make it to his feet and slowly, painfully, he began to stumble towards the red haired man. With each hobble, his left foot dragged behind him noisily. He waited for the Shade to turn at the sound, but too immersed in his enjoyment, his enemy did not hear a sound over the crackling flames. When he was directly behind the monster, he stopped to catch his breath and then he raised his sword. It seemed too easy; too unfair that as always, everyone _else_ was left to suffer the harder tasks. Through the magical haze, he could see Murtagh and Lia's faces twisted in pain and concentration. He would do this last thing for them. Drawing back his arm, he did all that was left to do. He plunged Za' roc into Durza's back and straight through his heart.

Lia was struggling to stay standing. Murtagh's fingers were slipping from her own. Almost spent, they knew that their time was upon them. There was no more energy, no more power, only their _will_ that kept them on their feet and alive. Their icy wall was but a few inches thick, the flames were so close that blisters begin to form and bubble on their skin, but they would_ not_ step down.

There was an ear-spitting screech and then… it was over. The flames simply disappeared. The Shade exploded into a thousand pieces and everything was still. Falling to their knees, Murtagh and Lia swayed, feeling their consciousness and life beginning to slip away.

_He did it…_ Murtagh managed to whisper.

_He did something right…._ Lia whispered back.

_Are we dead yet?_ He asked, unsure.

_No, but I think we are close…_ she replied weakly.

And then, somewhere, _somehow_, she felt it, the _smallest _flicker of _something_. It was barely noticeable and did not belong to any living thing and yet, it hovered nearby. It felt like the presence of a soul close to being extinguished, close to moving on. In that moment, she knew who it was and she knew what they had to do. Grabbing Murtagh's hand, she pulled him as she staggered towards Saphira's body.

_She is dead Lia… All hope is lost…_

_Not all… and we can give it to her… We can give her all that we have left…_

_Will it be enough?_

_We will never find out…_

_What do we do?_

_We give her out strength_

_How?_

_I know the words…_

Eragon stared at the space where the Shade had been and waited for justice to be served. Closing his eyes, he heard their approaching steps and then, they moved _past_ him. He opened his eyes and stared after them in disbelief, as they headed towards the corpse of his beloved dragon.

Barely able to walk anymore, Murtagh and Lia collapsed against Saphira side. Placing their linked hands against her, they stared at each other one last time. Keeping their eyes open was difficult now. In that brief moment when their eyes met, there was nothing to be said. They would die with honour. Murtagh nodded. Lia strained to smile and then, they closed their eyes and she said the words of power. The drain was instant and powerful. Whatever life was in them slipped away and they were no more.

Seeing what they were doing, Eragon's heart lurched. There would only be one reason that Lia would drag Murtagh to Saphira's body. But she was _dead_?! How could they do _anything_?! The link was utterly _gone_! There was nothing left for him to be connected with! Astonished, he watched as they lay their hands against her side and at that moment he knew that if there were even the _slightest_ chance that he could bring her back, he would take it. If he died in the process, it would make _no_ difference. Limping towards them, he saw the two warriors' eyes close and as they slumped to the ground, a bright light glowed beneath Saphira's skin. It was still glowing when he threw himself against her ruined hide and muttered the _only_ incantation that would make a difference. As the remaining power was taken away from him, every function of his body began to shut down until he was left to face the dark void.

Erika and the archers on the roof watched, astounded as the Shade was destroyed and the three heroes simply staggered to the dead dragon and died. Gazing down at the unconscious girl in her arms, Erika was glad that the Ella at least had not witnessed her fiend's demise. Then a glaring light claimed her attention. The dragon emitted a white light and then it was gone. Everyone stared at the bodies intently. The three on the floor lay perfectly still, but Erika was certain that for the briefest moment, she had seen the dragon's side move, if only a fraction. Had they somehow managed to save the dragon? If the dragon was alive, then surely the Rider had survived and if he had survived then _maybe_ there was hope for the others.

"Go to them!" Erika ordered the men at her side.

"Take this girl and place her in the dragon hold", she instructed another.

Lifting the girl into his arms, she flitted faster than even she had dreamed possible to the scene of the tragedy. Standing above them, she quickly dropped to the ground and grabbed each of their limp wrists in turn, before finally, gingerly, resting a hand against the dragon's side. It shouldn't have been possible, but _every_ one of them had a pulse. Pathetically weak and barely decipherable, but it was there. They were _alive_. If they were treated quickly, maybe, just _maybe_, they would stay that way. Leaping to her feet, she yelled at the top of her lungs, so that not a soul would be unable to hear her.

"**BRING THE HEALERS! THEY ARE ALIVE!**"

The response to her call was instant, but without her speed, she wondered if they would arrive too late. Anxiously, she paced before them and waited. As she waited, she thought. There were minds to meddle with, plans to redesign and vengeance yet to be tasted. Slowly, a smile spread across her lips. She would achieve all three goals.

_Darkness... emptiness... nothingness_. For a long while, that was all that the three of them knew. Three days passed. Three days through which Ella watched over them, nursing them and helping the healers whenever she was allowed. By the end of the second day, Saphira had almost fully healed. She carried a few scars, but she was able to fly to the dragon hold and remain with her Rider and companions. Erika also visited often, never saying a word, only monitoring the progress and then disappearing from view. It was on the afternoon of the third day, soon after she had left, that Ella and Saphira sat by the feet of the unconscious, watching and waiting. Depressed and sick of not knowing when their loved ones would wake, they stared dejectedly at opposite walls. That was when Ella heard the sharp intake of breath. Her head whipped around at the sound, to see Lia's eyes fly open.

Lia was awake. She didn't understand what had brought her back, but she was definitely alive and she could feel Murtagh's presence. Too frightened to move her eyes away from the ceiling, she moved her hand, inching it to her side, reaching for the hand that she hoped was there. It was. Grabbing it and pressing her palm against his, she felt him stir. A small groan passed his lips and his fingers tightened around hers. His head lolled to the side and the first thing he was saw her. Seeing the movement, she dropped her own face to the side and gazed back at him. For a long while, they did nothing but stare at each other, feeling their strength rebuild at their physical connection.

Ella was unable to speak. So relieved, so pleased, so happy, so choked with emotion was she, that she was frozen. Saphira, too overwhelmed to act, also chose to merely watch and inwardly rejoice as two out of three of them regained consciousness.

_Why the hell are we not dead?_ Murtagh asked.

_I don't have a bloody clue!_ Lia replied.

_Lia…_

_Yes?_

_You look awful_

_Murtagh…_

_Yes?_

_You look like shit_

They laughed aloud. At the sound of all he had ever wanted to hear ever again, Eragon was drawn to his body and slowly, he opened his eyes, The moment his consciousness returned, Saphira's large head hovered inches from his own. Upon seeing her, he burst into tears of relief and joy. Murtagh and Lia turned their heads and witnessed their reunion smiles on their faces.

_Well what do you know... it worked!_ Murtagh said in surprise.

_You doubted me?_ Lia asked, affronted.

_We were about to die! I was hardly going to pick a fight! _ he laughed.

_Bastard!_ she chuckled.

Ella's eyes wandered over them all and she began to sob uncontrollably. After all they had suffered, every harsh word, every blow, the three of them were alive, well and they looked _happy_! It was too much to take. At the sound of her breakdown, all four sets of eyes turned to her.

"Ella?" Lia asked, sounding concerned.

"What is the _matter_ with _her_?" Murtagh asked tactlessly.

"_Ella_…." Eragon said her name softly, his voice filled with regret.

"How are you?" Lia said.

"The three of you nearly die fighting a Shade and you ask how _I _am?!?" she shrieked.

"Where _were _you during the battle?" Murtagh asked curiously.

"I… _I tried_ to come and _help_ you" she replied evasively.

"You _did_? What _happened_?" Lia asked nervously.

"_I… fainted,_" Ella answered sheepishly, turning a deep shade of red.

There was a minute of silence before Murtagh started to laugh, and one by one, they all joined in. When the laughter stopped, Eragon nervously turned his head to face the two that had almost died for him, _again_. In turn, they faced him with blank expressions. Ella's eyes flitted between them anxiously. The atmosphere was tense. Would they forgive him? Could _she_ forgive him? Saphira's head moved next to hers, as if she too knew that this conversation held no place for her.

"I was ready for you to kill me back there. I deserve it. I would say that I am sorry, but the words do not begin to cover the guilt that I feel. I was wrong to judge you, _both_ of you. I will not beg for your forgiveness because I know I deserve no such thing. I only wish for you to know that I have seen the error of my ways and what it has cost me. _Never_ again shall I make such a mistake for as long as I live", Eragon said, his voice just above a whisper.

Lia glanced at Murtagh. He rolled his eyes.

"_Honestly_ Rider! Only an _idiot _such as _yourself_ would wish us to _kill _you after we waste so much time trying to keep you _alive_! You really _are_ a waste of _space!_" he muttered, eyeing Eragon with contempt, before allowing the smallest smile break through. "But you did alright out there. For a moment, we were _almost _proud"

He chuckled at saying it out loud and quickly added in a stern tone, "Just _don't_ let it get to your head!"

"What Murtagh is _trying_ to say is… well… you truly _are_ an arse, but you and Saphira are alive and that it what matters to us," Lia said with a smile.

"_You_... you _forgive_ me?" Eragon asked in disbelief.

"_So_ you put us in a life endangering scenario, got mad at us and then we had to rescue you! _What's new_?" Murtagh laughed.

"If _anything_, I would personally like to _thank_ you. I have never had so much fun in my _life_!" Lia admitted and quickly turned her attention to Murtagh. "Which _reminds_ me... my final count was twenty nine. _Yours_?"

"Twenty _eight_", he groaned.

"_Ha!_" Lia giggled, prodding him in the side in her victory and instantly regretting it as he winced in pain.

Without though, she propped herself up on one elbow, leaned her head down and kissed his lips. He beamed up at her and they became aware of Eragon's eyes close to dropping out of their sockets.

_As you are the winner, you have won the chance to tell the Rider about… us_ Murtagh gloated.

Lia grinned and moved herself recklessly close to her partner, who rested a hand on her hip and eyed her appreciatively; despite the burns that marred appearance. Eragon's face heated, but he could not help but grin back at them.

"And just so you know, _Murtagh_ and I are now... _well_…" she struggled to say the words.

"So I can _see_" Eragon stated, biting back a laugh.

"It _is_ rather nice", Murtagh commented. "She is beautiful, deadly, irritating beyond belief, knowledgeable and simply _excellent_ in bedroom antics! I would _highly_ recommend one of these", he said, pulling her up against him, enjoying the sight of her rare blush.

"It is_ rather_ nice", she admitted, with an embarrassed smile.

"It _looks_ it!" Eragon agreed with a laugh, oddly pleased for them and then his eyes reluctantly moved to Ella and he sighed. "But I believe I lost my chance".

Uncertainly, Ella moved towards him. She had not forgotten what he had done, but if the others could forgive him, then couldn't she? There was no denying the sorrow she felt at the thought of his death, or the feeling in her heart when he opened his eyes.

"Maybe, she just needs a little time?" she suggested innocently.

Eragon's answering smile was enough to encourage her to go to his side and when he painfully reached for her hand, she let him take it. The sound of someone clearing their throat had all their eyes turn to the door.

"Are we done with the tears and the heart felt reunion or must I suffer listening to more of this romantic _drivel_ before I tell you what I need to and _leave_?" Erika's irate voice reached their ears.

"We're done" Ella laughed.

The others turned to her with questioning eyes. She shrugged and half-smiled.

"It's Erika. She's bloody strange, but she's _not _actually that bad", Ella stated with nonchalance, as the beautiful girl entered and lit up the chamber with her very presence.

"Ajihad has offered both Murtagh and Lia a full pardon. They are now free to leave, however, having seen your skill in battle; he would like to offer you the opportunity to stay as either fighters or weapons trainers. He offers you quality accommodation, fine meals and a chance to put your skills to good use. You too Ella, have been cleared of all charges, Erika stated, her tone carefree.

"But… Ajihad never _saw_ them fight?" Ella said, confused.

Erika gave her a sour look and then raised her eyes to the heavens.

"_Believe_ you _me_, the amount of people I had to convince of what they saw _without_ arousing suspicion was no where _near_ as easy as I had hoped, but it is _done_. _Everyone_ saw the same thing and the _three_ of you are all _heroes_! You are, as of _this_ moment, _untouchable,_" she assured them with a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

Reading the meaning behind her words, they each felt a wave of relief. Eragon opened his mouth, but Murtagh raised a hand and smiled wryly.

"Do _not _thank her", he said, shooting a glance Erika's way.

"You _remembered,_" she grinned.

The air shimmered and then she was gone. They were together and they were safe... they were really safe. The war was over, Durza was dead and the bald headed man could harm them no more. The relief that swept over them was exhausting. Lia moved back down, lying with her head against Murtagh's chest. Eragon did not let go of Ella's hand. Saphira curled up comfortably at their feet.

"We are _safe_?" Murtagh asked, the words sounding foreign to him.

"They think we are _heroes_!" Lia snorted in disbelief, although the word _did_ have some appeal.

"Ajihad will want to hear your decision," Ella said in a small voice.

The statement was meant as a question. There really was _nothing_ tying them to this place any longer. They could leave if they wanted. A thoughtful expression passed across the warriors' faces.

_This was your dream…_ Murtagh said, his tone matter of fact.

_Yes it was, but it was never yours _ she pointed out.

_Things have changed_ he shrugged.

_Do you mean… you wish to stay?_ she asked in surprise.

_I'm with you, aren't I?_ he replied with a wink and a smile.

She answered him with an enthusiastic kiss that had him wishing for this "_quality accommodation_" immediately. Pushing her away, he let out a low whistle.

"_Apparently_ we are staying," he confirmed with an easy smile, before allowing her to kiss him once more and making no attempt to stop her.

A sense of being complete fell upon them all and it was the most glorious feeling in the world.

"You should _probably_ get some rest first," Ella said happily. "I am sure Ajihad can wait a while longer".

"I _don't _think they are tired" Eragon muttered sarcastically, averting his eyes from the energetic kissing taking place at his side.

"Neither am I. What shall we do?" Ella asked.

"_Hmmm,_" Eragon thought. "I _could _tell you a story. This one time on the farm-"

As one, Murtagh, Lia and Ella dropped to their sides and made dramatically loud snoring noises. Eragon scowled down at them all until the snoring stopped, but their eyes remained closed.

"Bugger off the lot of you!" he sulked.

They laughed.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

All in various states of relaxation, they were smiling. Several hours had passed and here they lay, doing absolutely nothing. Having slept solidly for days, Murtagh, Eragon and Lia merely enjoyed lazing in their present company. Only Ella and Saphira, who had watched over them for so long, were finally able to rest.

Pain pulsed through Eragon's body. Rider healing powers or not, the damage he had suffered would take him a week to heal, but he had never been happier. Rolling his head to the side, he saw Ella's sleeping face. Her lips that were slightly parted existed inches away from his, curved into the smallest of smiles.

Her warm hand fitted snugly inside his. Stroking his thumb across her knuckles, he then gently squeezed her hand. She responded sleepily, snuggling closer to him until her lips touched his bare shoulder. At the unfamiliar intimacy of the moment, he felt a pleasant shiver pass through him and prayed that the moment would never end.

The words that she had said before stated that she was willing to give him a chance; however, there was no hiding the apprehension in her eyes. Now, in her slumber, free of all caution, it certainly _did_ seem as if she truly _did _want him. It was more than he could have ever hoped for, better than any dream and much, _much_ more than he ever deserved. The moment seemed too false, too good to be true…

Inhaling deeply, he tried to force himself to accept that all was well, there was no more immediate danger, his friends and dragon were by his side and there they would all remain. In spite of all this promising evidence, he found his grip tighten on Ella's hand.

How was it that he was able to allow paranoia to seep into this moment? It was a crime! He should be enjoying himself! He should not be tainting such rare and beautiful moments with such pessimism! But there was no denying the strange, gnawing sensation in his gut. It was as thought every part of him knew that something was about to go horribly _wrong_.

_Ignore it! _he begged of himself. Keeping his eyes firmly shut, he pretended that this ominous feeling _wasn't _threatening to consume every part of him. Maybe it would go away?

Three, sharp loud knocks on the door caused him to groan in disdain. There was _no_ way in which it could mean anything good. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. Grinding his teeth together, he reluctantly opened one eye and gazed hopelessly at whomever it was that would enter the room and ruin this day. _This is going to be bad_; he sulked.

Murtagh and Lia's eyes sprang open and they were on their feet in a blink of an eye - backs straight, fists bunched and eyes trained on the door. Eragon opened his other eye and noted their positions with a touch of sorrow; they were _never_ fooled into thinking that they were safe. Had recent events and the passing months left them overly cautious? All things considered, it seemed _doubtful_.

Lia's eye twitched in irritation. She suspected who their visitor was, due to the non-existent sound of her approach. Her teeth snapped together and her jaw jutted out. It was irrational and ridiculous, but for all the valid reasons to fear the strange girl, Lia felt no such thing…only that unfamiliar twinge of _jealousy_. It was a terribly annoying emotion; one made _worse_ by her partner's responding delight.

Murtagh's expression was smooth, almost cold. He moved an inch to the side, until his arm touched he shoulder.

_Unnecessary_ he reminded her in a reassuring tone.

His attempt may have mollified her, had his grin not been so distinct in that one word.

Choosing not to reply, her mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed, as Erika appeared before them, looking radiant as _always_.

Sighing in contentment, Murtagh glanced at the girl with little interest, before staring intently at Lia's darkening expression with great amusement. On the outside, he appeared to be extremely bored. It _was_ only Erika.

Erika knocked as many times as her limited patience would allow and then chose to enter without waiting for an invitation. They would only be sleeping and the news that she bore would be welcome to the two insane warriors at least.

It was difficult to remember that one was the son of _Morzan_. The both of them equally grated on her nerves, regardless of whoever their fathers were. She had not quite forgiven them for making it so painstakingly _hard_ to keep them alive. She _sincerely _doubted that they had got past her unintentional involvement in the incident that was intended to end in Lia's death. Two seconds after her entrance, she knew that her assumption was correct.

There was also something _else_ in the air between them. It was something that existed between herself and the girl. This was not the usual reaction to her presence- there was no wariness or fear. _This_ was _territorial_. It was very basic, very animal and could only be described as _instinctive_. The warrior girl felt threatened. Murtagh honestly didn't seem to care about her presence, but Lia glared at her with the same hostility that she had on the first night that they had met.

Erika decided that this behaviour was rather offensive. After all, she _had _saved them and ensured their continual existence! Surely _some_ form of respect was due? Then _again_, the thought of being liked or owed a debt caused her to shudder.

She had never found any appeal in the concept of friends or being tied to anyone in any specific way, shape or form. This distance between them all was for the best. _Still_…there was no harm in a little innocent, light-hearted fun at the expense of others.

With seductive eyes, she moved her gaze away from Lia and proceeded to admire every inch of Murtagh's bare torso. Feigning interest was not a hard task; there was something very irresistible about the muscles that made it increasingly difficult to look away and the scar; the compelling scar that cried out to her to touch it. She even went as far as to bite down on her lower lip and raise an appreciative brow.

Lia ground her teeth together and her brows plummeted down over her sparkling, dangerous eyes. Her fingers dug into the palms of her hands. If she had had nails, they would have cut their way through to the other side. As it was, she had already bitten down on her tongue when her teeth had slipped out of formation and the tang of her blood filled her mouth.

It didn't matter that the girl had helped them and it didn't matter that Murtagh only had eyes for her. This girl was looking at the one single, most important thing in her life as if she _wanted_ him and in _that_ instant, Lia knew that this girl was an _enemy_.

_Let her look. It is all she will ever get! _Murtagh laughed.

_I do not care for it. I do not care for it at all. I have never felt such a sudden urge to rip someone's arms off and beat them to death with them! She has no right to look at you that way!  
_

_  
Well I am very attractive_ he stated with mock sincerity.

_Shut up. You cannot see the look in her eyes _she growled.

_Why don't you show me? _he suggested, sounding mildly curious.

Showing him what she could see through their bond, his eyes bugged slightly, before tightening. He pursed his lips.

_Now that is inappropriate… I would kill a man for less…  
_

_  
How kind of you to agree…Now can I please, please rip her apart with my bare hands?  
_

_  
It is tempting…but reluctantly, I am forced to admit that she did help us; therefore, maybe a subtle warning would not go amiss  
_

_  
Ugh!_ she groaned.

_We are restless from being bed bound for so long. As soon as she leaves, let's you and I release some tension…  
_

_  
_His smile was suggestive, but the intention was not directed towards an intimate encounter of any description. Lia knew this particular smile and answered it with one of her own.

_Are you sure you are healed enough to survive me handing you your arse on a silver platter?  
_

_  
I think I can manage. If it's all the same, I won't ask if your face can handle my fist in it. You look so bloody terrible that a few blows might actually make you look a damn sight better!  
_

Lia choked back a laugh and fought to keep her serious exterior. He was so _very _good at distracting her. He grinned and winked down at her and with the hand that wasn't really there; he grabbed her behind causing her inner self to lurch forward. Existing in these two forms was convenient during times like these.

_So, why do we not hear what she has to say, get rid of her and then start about moving! I feel sluggish and revolting from all this idle lying around!_ he complained.

_  
Fine, we make her go away and then go about hitting each other. I see the beginning of a great day ahead!  
_

_Without a doubt…now…would you kindly make her stop staring at me…Not that I do not feel flattered by her attentions… I just don't want to be responsible for any deaths on our first day of joining the supposed side of good.  
_

_I can see how that would put a damper on things _she grumbled in assent and then her eyes lit up as she asked the question that was dancing on the tip of her tongue.

_And what if… heaven forbid… she doesn't take the hint?  
_

_It will be her funeral_ he shrugged.

A malicious smile spread across Lia's face and she secretly hoped that this _Erika_ would rise to the challenge. Tingling with excitement, she could feel that Murtagh secretly wished the same. They were hopeless.

At the audible crack of Lia's knuckles, Erika's lips twitched at the corners and she smiled in satisfaction.

Relief swept through Eragon, when he saw that the newcomer was only the girl. It was relief mingled with a hint of nausea. There was something so unnatural about her that the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. She was _too_ beautiful, possessed talents that were _too _unexplainable and even though she had helped them, he could not find himself to fully accept her as being altogether on the side of good.

Saphira's eyes slid open and she dipped her head in greeting. The sudden chill in the atmosphere caused Ella to stir. Drowsily, she rubbed her eyes. When she blinked up to see Erika, she smiled lazily.

"Back so soon?" Ella enquired casually, her tone pleasant.

Erika pulled a face at the girl's manner. Somehow this child's acceptance of her threatened her otherwise serious style and _that _was unacceptable. Of course the girl was only a few years younger than she, but a _child _she was none the less. Ignoring the cheerful voice, her eyes never moved from Murtagh and Lia.

"We have… a _problem_," she informed them, allowing humour to lace her otherwise professional manner.  
"What kind of a problem?" Murtagh asked; his tone indifferent.  
"Kull," she stated with an equal lack of concern, whilst brushing some dirt off her shoulder.  
"They have _returned_?" Eragon whined, bolting painfully upright, unable to believe that several people could _all_ be followed by this amount of _constant_ bad luck.  
"For pity's _sake_ Rider, even if that _were_ the case, there wouldn't be much _you_ could do about it!" she said, eyeing his battered state; her previously cool expression gave way to irritation. "_As_ it _just _so happens, we think that there are only a band of a few…_maybe_ fifteen. We found a trail leading into one of the caves at the side of the mountain. It is nothing that a group of our own men cannot handle, but Ajihad has offered the chance for your two _guards_ to join the hunting party. It is a promising opportunity to make a start on clearing your names."  
"I thought they were _already_ cleared?" Eragon asked unhappily.

Murtagh cut in before Erika could reply.

"_Please_ Rider! It is going to take a _little _more than just the _one _good deed. As far as _they_ are concerned, I have lived a _lifetime_ of wickedness and as for _Lia_, she will _still _be considered my accomplice. We have a _long _way to go before acceptance is _anywhere_ in sight," he smiled, unruffled by the fact.  
"You will fight?" Erika asked.  
"_Of course_," Lia answered in a steely voice, directing the attention away from her fellow warrior.  
"Good. Well then, I shall see you both in the great hall shortly. You do _not _want to keep Ajihad waiting _and_-," she hesitated and smiled suggestively at Murtagh once more "- you _may _want to put a shirt on."

With a coy smile thrown over her shoulder, she was gone before Lia's sailing fist could touch a hair on her head.

No one spoke. Lia stood glaring at the door with heaving shoulders and burning cheeks. She had _never _missed her mark. The embarrassment hit her _hard_. Murtagh chuckled and pulled her to him, where she continued to stand tense, half ready to race down the stairs after the wench.

"You _have_ to admit that she knows _exactly _what she is doing and damn it, _she_ is _good_," he muttered in her ear in a low voice.

Lia's blood began to boil.

"I will _not _miss again," she promised.  
"Shall I hold her down for you?" he offered.  
"I am no _coward_. I can deal with her _myself_"  
"But clearly _she_ is. _Without_ her speed, she would be _no_ match for you."

Breathing sharply through her nose, she found her composure and gave him a smile that sent his heart racing.

"I will bide my time and when I _do _hit her, it is going to _hurt_… a _lot_."  
"_Good_," he smiled.

A laugh from behind had them turn around very slowly. It was Eragon. Murtagh eyed the Rider curiously, whilst Lia saw his snicker for what it was and pierced him with a look that made all colour leave his face. When Murtagh heard a brief echo of Lia's thoughts, he bit down on the inside of his cheek and shook his head at their Saviour.

"You're in trouble _now_ Rider," he muttered under his breath, struggling to hold in a laugh of his own.

Eragon had watched the exchange between the three of them with great interest. He couldn't understand why he seemed to be the only person who felt fear towards the girl. Not that he expected Murtagh and Lia to fear anyone, but he expected _something_.

Searching for that _something_, he found nothing on Murtagh - not even a _hint_ of admiration. He appeared to only look at her when it was absolutely necessary. It did not seem a chore for him to keep his eyes away from this tempting female. Eragon wondered if this were because he would suffer tremendous physical damage from Lia, if she were ever able to sense his urge? Then again, the way that he looked at his partner cast away any thought of attraction to the angel that stood before them.

He had noticed it before, in the way that they looked at each other. Even _then_, it never occurred to him that it could lead to something like this…this strange love. It couldn't be anything else. It was as if no body else existed in the room for him. And then there was _Lia_…

Lia looked as though she were about to explode. The look on her face was terrifying and it was not fear, it was anger. For a long time, Eragon had to rack his brains to think of any reason why Lia would act in such a way. It was so completely out of character. There was no sign of the calm and collected authority figure that he knew here, her behaviour now was disturbing and it was only at Erika's parting comment and the sudden thrust of Lia's fist, that the realisation hit him. Lia was _scared _of competition!

It was such a ludicrous notion that he laughed out loud; an action he immediately regretted when her eyes locked onto his. It was the scariest expression he had ever seen. He knew he had a voice, but it had taken to hiding near the soles of his feet. Cowering back against the wall, he ripped his gaze away and stared at a fold in the blanket that was covering his legs.

"Is there something that you wish to say Rider?" she asked icily.  
"No," he mumbled pathetically.  
"It is a long walk down those stairs," Ella interjected with a sigh. "Even at your fastest pace, it would take almost half of an hour."

_I will carry the both of you _Saphira's voice sounded in the back of Lia's head.

_That is a very generous offer, but I would not want us to burden you with the extra weight - especially after you have suffered so greatly  
_

Lia fought to sound courteous. She did not wish to offend Saphira when she offered to help them so freely. Saphira's rose to her full height and she appraised the both of them before lowering her belly to the floor.

_I am not so weak that I cannot carry two weak little humans to the ground and fly back again_ she stated wryly.

Smirking, Lia turned to Murtagh with a grin.

"It looks like we are taking a ride," she said happily.

The smile promptly slipped from her face as she bent down and picked up his tunic and threw it to him with a meaningful look. Catching it, he jammed it over his head and laughed at the severe expression on her face. At the infectious sound, she shook her head and rolled her eyes at him.

"Better?" he asked.  
"_Much_," she replied dryly.

Taking Eragon's place as she had done months before, she waited for Murtagh to sit behind her. His confidence took her by surprise. She had expected his movements to be careful and slow. Instead, he clambered up the dragon's side and took his place with ease. When they were both in place, a strange cold fell over them. They were not the only ones to feel it; beneath them, Saphira froze. For a few moments, no body breathed. And then it passed.

_Lia…what the hell was that? _Murtagh asked slowly.

_I have no idea…  
_

_  
Did she feel it too?  
_

_  
It definitely feels that way…  
_

_  
It must be some dragon thing… _he concluded weakly.

_You're probably right… _Lia politely agreed

Saphira said nothing.

"Will you come back afterwards?" Eragon asked.  
"That _depends_…" Murtagh said.  
"On what?" the Rider enquired, worried about what he was about to hear.  
"How much fun we have," he beamed.  
"They _may_ tell better stories than you," Lia teased.  
"_Fine_, suit yourselves and _please_, take your time. The longer the both of you stay _away_, the longer _I_ get to spend with _my_ lady," Eragon stated defiantly, bringing Ella's hand to his lips and flashing a grin that exposed too many teeth.

Of course he had said the words before really thinking about what he was saying, but it was too late to take them back now.

Ella turned crimson, Murtagh burst out laughing and Lia clutched a hand to her heart and bent low over Saphira's neck.

"Did you _hear_ that Saphira? The _Rider _has become a _man_!" she chuckled.  
"Oh _Rider_!" Murtagh boomed, laughing hard. "That was the _funniest _thing I have _ever _heard!"  
"I _am_ a man," Eragon growled in his defence.

Lia couldn't bite down on her lips hard enough and had to move her eyes away. Saphira gazed at her Rider fondly, not daring to utter a word and Murtagh gave Ella a suggestive wink that made her nearly choke.

"Be careful Rider! I doubt she is as tame as she looks. She _is_ from the same stock as Lia and I after all, so watch yourself!" he warned, mockingly.

Ella's hand gripped Eragon's harder and Eragon gripped hers' back. It was impossible to judge who was the most uncomfortable. If it were a competition, it would have been a tie.

Saphira trudged out of the room and around the corner, carrying her passengers, who were shaking with controlled laughter. Eragon and Ella remained deathly quiet. The silence was broken one last time, as just before their companions disappeared from view, they heard the last few words leave Murtagh's mouth. The few words that had the both of them blush _more_ than either had ever thought possible.

"**RIDE HER HARD RIDER!**" Murtagh bellowed deviously.

His comment was followed by a snort from Saphira and a fresh burst of laughter from Lia.

There was a heavy scraping of large claws, as Saphira perched herself on the edge, a cracking noise as her wings snapped open and then nothing, as she threw herself over the edge.

They were alone and yet neither could exhale; nervousness took a hold of the both of them. They were _alone_. They had been alone before, but never like this. This was different; _this_ time, they weren't just friends. Well, emotionally they weren't, but _physically_, nothing had happened yet. The silence weighed heavily upon them and there was this urge, this need to do _something…anything!_ The time was right and they both knew it. This was their moment.

Eragon could feel his palms begin to sweat and was overjoyed that he could feel dampness from her own. At least he was not the _only_ one who suffered this nervous habit. They had been alone for maybe ten seconds? Twenty seconds? Each second screamed at him to act! Even in their simple holding of hands, he could feel that it meant something more. His stomach was turning upside down and inside out in his moment of indecision.

Erasing all thoughts of Murtagh's mocking words and inappropriate suggestions, he took a deep breath. He would not make the same mistake that he had made in the forest. He refused to let the next moment be one of shame.

_Is this what I really want? _Ella asked herself, already knowing the answer. Was it too soon? Did she really need all the time that she claimed she needed to recover? Could she forget the past few days so easily? Common sense told her that she still needed to think things through, every other part of her begged for him to –

Her jumbled thoughts were forever lost, as his free hand curled around the back of her neck and he plunged into a kiss that could in _no_ way be compared to the _pitiful_ display of lip to lip action from the many nights before. Forgetting his recently acquired wounds, she threw her arms around his neck and gave in.

Dropping like a rock, Saphira chuckled to herself, as Murtagh and Lia yelled enthusiastically at the top of their lungs. The force of the drop had them hanging onto the saddle for dear life, as they felt some invisible force attempting to stop their descent and drag them away. It was frightening and exhilarating and they loved every second of this adrenaline-pumping ride.

"**BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODY HEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!**" Murtagh yelled.  
"**THIS IS AMAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGGGG!**" Lia yelled back.

Saphira was glowing, as she spiralled downward, adding to their high. They screamed and laughed even louder and when she finally landed, she felt their backsides return to the saddle with a heavy thud and she heard the air knocked out of them. There was a moment of wheezing where she suspected that she _might_ have gone one step _too _far and then, they started laughing again.

Unsteadily, they slid from the saddle in a _less _than gracious manner and clung to each other with as much dignity as they could muster. Growling a laugh, she took in their appearances. Their eyes were bright, their cheeks were flushed with excitement and the state of their hair was hilarious.

Murtagh's hair stuck up at every angle imaginable and Lia's hair that normally hung straight and sleek resembled their world's largest crow's nest. The two warriors took a moment to look at one another, before doubling over laughing once more. Saphira joined in.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she could sense that Eragon was having an _interesting_ time in her absence. Assuming that he would probably want to be _alone_ for a while, she decided that this would be the most opportune moment for a hunt. After these two stumbling warriors were able to stagger from her side, she would find some food to play with. If everyone else was sating their need for entertainment, then so would she.

Murtagh tried to smooth out his hair, but several sections stubbornly refused to be budged. He looked as though he had been dragged through a bush. Lia ran her fingers through her own until it almost resembled its natural state. She had done all that she could, but the additional volume could not be escaped. Her hair was _huge_.

"I think you had better stand at the _back _of the hunting party," Murtagh suggested, trying to keep a straight face.  
"Because you don't want me to show you up?" she asked hopefully.  
"No… because if you're anywhere near the front, your _head_ is going to block everyone else's view!" he laughed, trying to flatten her hair to no avail.

She looked like she was trying to think of a suitable, witty come back. There _wasn't _one. Grinning, she allowed him this easy win and began to tie her hair in a knot at the back.

"_Better_?" she asked, mimicking his words in the dragon hold.  
"_Much_," he beamed down at her.

Turning to Saphira, they both offered her a bow.

"_That_, gracious Saphira was an experience I shall never forget. You truly _are_ an incredible creature," Murtagh said with feeling.

Both Lia and Saphira stared at him, caught off guard. This was the first time that he had spoken to Saphira aloud before. Unsure how to react, Saphira snorted a little in surprise and dipped her head enough to show him that his words were appreciated.

_Tell him it was my pleasure_ Saphira said, sounding somewhat smug.

_I do not know. He may want to do it again and then I shall have to tell him that it is not a privilege to be abused and that would involve denying this face …_ Lia replied, gesturing to her grinning and jubilant love.

Saphira rumbled a laugh again. There was something very childlike in Murtagh's face in that moment - it was not something she had ever noticed before. He looked absolutely _thrilled_. It pleased her.

_It was not so bad. If you both enjoy it so, I see no reason why I cannot share some of my joy with the both of you. I owe you much more and I have the distinct feeling that if my Rider continues doing what he is currently doing in my sleeping area, he may want a little more privacy  
_

Lia's brows shot upward in surprise and she turned to Murtagh with a proud smile.

_Well there you have it Murtagh… our little Eragon is all grown up  
_

The discomfort was less when Lia let the barrier between Saphira and Murtagh fall inside her mind. It was not due to any practice, it was just easier.

_You lie! That boy would never find the gall! He all but chokes up when she holds his hand! He blushes like a virgin maid! _Murtagh accused.

_Maybe we were a bad influence on Ella?_ Lia pondered cheerfully.

_Either way, he is getting very comfortable with her - _

Murtagh cut Saphira off mid sentence before she could scar him for _life_. No amount of blood, guts and gore would disturb him more than _that_ image.

_No more! - _he pleaded - _Ugh! Lia we can never return to that place again! We slept on that blanket and now it has been tainted by Rider! I say that we kill some Kull, get friendly with Ajihad and demand our free accommodation!  
_

_  
He hasn't - Saphira begun.  
_

_  
I do not want to hear anything more!_

Murtagh stuffed his fingers in his ears and hummed loudly.

It was a useless measure. Lia coughed pointedly. He started to whistle. Raising her eyes to the heavens, Lia smiled at Saphira.

_Well, I think we are ready for action. We will however see that we get our accommodation as soon as possible and, before we return, I will contact you to ask whether it is _- she cast a quick glance to Murtagh - _safe?  
_

_  
I shall be contacting him to establish that myself _Saphira confided, with a hint of embarrassment.

_Until then, farewell Saphira  
_

_  
Farewell Lia and you too Murtagh  
_

_  
Saphira_ he said with another small bow.

Saphira gave them one final look, before unfurling her wings and flapping up in the air where she belonged. Murtagh and Lia watched her ascend higher and higher, until she was but a small speck in the distance.

_  
Murtagh, you surprise me  
_

_  
I have been known to do that on occasion  
_

_  
You never showed any interest in Saphira before  
_

_  
It is easier to appreciate her ability to fly when I am not being ripped off my feet by her razor sharp claws  
_

_  
True _she agreed_.  
_

_  
So… shall we meet the man that fought my father and ask him if he wants to play?  
_

_  
Why not? _Lia grinned.

_  
_Glancing at the great doors next to which they had landed, they exchanged a confident look and made their way inside.

Erika was _not_ happy, not at _all_. The reason for her discomfort was evident. Here she stood, standing between her masters, the _both _of them. The three of them waited beside Ajihad and some of his soldiers. Trapped between their identical ugliness, she felt a jolt of anxiety. Of course, she masked it by holding her serene expression. She would _never_ let them know the effect that they had on her - years of practice had taught her how to be good actress.

Almost a decade had passed and yet, when she stood in between them in this way, the memories were so _horribly_ clear… she could see herself as a child again, could almost _feel_ the things that they had done to her when everybody else turned a blind eye.

Stopping her unpleasant trip down memory lane, she tried to find that satisfaction that she had clung to over the days. She had deprived them of _another _experiment. They were mad with their loss…they _had_ to be.

Casting them askance glances, she read their faces. As always, they appeared superior and unperturbed, but there was a glint in their eyes that made her stomach lurch. They seemed excited, inappropriately so. What reasoning could they possibly have to look forward to this encounter? They would be faced with the two beings that they had wished to "study" and they would be unable to act on their desires. By all rights, the knowledge should have caused them to miss out on this trip all together! So _why _were they here?

Erika had been certain that everything was now safe. She had personally seen to it that everything would work to the advantage of the warriors and _now_… she was not so sure. Looking from Ajihad to the soldiers and back to her Masters, she forced herself to take a calming breath. She was being _absurd;_ nothing was going to happen here. The leader of The Varden was in their midst, as were several soldiers and the two guests were untouchable. They _were_. They _had_ to be.

"Erika dear, would you go to the healers. It seems that we have acquired a _new _addition and she _may_ have something that may aid the Rider's recovery?" a silky, honeyed voice asked of her.  
"_Yes_ my child, you should go to them _now_. We shall return as soon as the _deed_ is _done_," the other promised her.

A sickness overcame her as the word "_deed_" was said with a deliberate edge. She was imagining things and even if she weren't, they would not _dare_… would they? They both gazed down at her fondly, but behind their eyes were a _direct_ wish for her to _leave _and she was unable to disobey an order from them.

Nodding once, she turned on her heel and flitted out of the room. As she rounded a corner, she heard the doors open. The warriors were inside. _They will be safe_, she comforted herself - but the words sounded like a weak, pathetic lie. Making her way to the healers, Erika prayed that her gut feeling was wrong; it had happened before.

_  
_Murtagh and Lia stepped into the large hall and immediately found themselves face to face with Ajihad, his men and the Twins. Their arrogant smiles disappeared, the corners of their mouths turned down on one side in their distaste.

_There are two of them?! _Lia shuddered in disgust.

_Yes _Murtagh replied, his voice black with hatred.

_They cannot harm us anymore _Lia reminded him.

She sounded and felt confident in her words, but the welcoming smiles that they received caused her resolve to waver.

_Ignore them… they are no threat to us anymore _Murtagh declared, without a trace of hesitation.

Taking her hand, Lia was able to turn her focus on the dark skinned man that had previously ordered their deaths. For Murtagh, the effort not to think of his nightmare was so immense, that he could feel cold sweat trickling down his back.

The sight of the Twins together only brought back images that would serve no purpose here. He never wanted to see _those_ images _again_. Gripping Lia's hand harder than necessary, he fought to remember that she was _here_- in _his _grasp and it had _only_ been a nightmare.

The sudden thirst to kill the Kull had left him. His priority was now simple; they would reach their destination, slaughter the remaining enemy as quickly as possible and then remove themselves from this company. Murtagh had _no_ desire to stand in the presence of these two abominations. It did not matter that they were safe; he wanted _nothing _to do with them.

Conscious that his ever-shifting mood and effort would alert Lia's concern, he forced his mind to wander onto different things. Such as the things he and his partner could do when they were presented with a _bedroom _of their _own_. It was all that he needed to bring a smirk to his face and forget his concerns. Lia caught onto the final gist of his thoughts and sent him a wave of lust, which helped erase his worries completely.

Stepping forward, they planted themselves several feet away from the leader of the Varden and waited for whatever he was about to say. With vacant faces, they looked into his dark, piercing eyes that bore into them.

Ajihad's face went through an interesting cycle of expressions. At first he was angry, then curious, then angry and then mildly concerned. In the end, he stared at them for a long time, appraisingly, before nodding once and looking incredibly serious.

"_Come,_" he said, swishing his cloak over his shoulders and leaving, his soldiers and the bald headed men following in tow.

Murtagh and Lia stood stunned into silence, eyes wide open and unblinking. Murtagh looked down at Lia. Lia craned her head up to look at him. Their expressions were unfathomable.

_  
Quite the chatterbox isn't he? _Lia commented, raising a sarcastic brow.

_  
You know… I think I actually preferred him when he wanted us dead… he was a lot less boring _Murtagh pointed out.

_  
Well, I guess we had better go and kill something. It might encourage him to say a word with more than one syllable?  
_

_  
Maybe…But I do no even ask him for that much?  
_

_  
Really? And why is that?  
_

_  
Because the only question that I wish to ask him is if our private quarters have been arranged and the only word that I want to hear pass through his lips is a "Yes"  
_

_I like the sound of that answer _Lia said, a tempting smile playing on her lips.

Releasing their hands, they jogged after the others and followed them out of the hall and towards the caves.

The walk was a short one and soon enough, they were walking silently through the long, dark cave, where the only light was carried by one of the men at the front. Ajihad, Murtagh and Lia were at the head of the line with the lantern-bearing soldier. The remaining soldiers and the Twins trailed close behind.

There were no sounds in the cave, only the occasional dripping noises and the sounds of their footsteps that echoed noisily, despite their careful footing. The air here was cold, _unnatural_. One by one, they began to shiver, until they walked along, rubbing at their arms. One of the soldiers complained at the back and Ajihad shot the man a silencing look, before returning his penetrating eyes to the darkness ahead.

Lia sniffed the air. Murtagh inhaled deeply. There was no scent to be found here - only the damp, musty smell of the cave. There was nothing that indicated that Kull had _ever_ passed through here. Their pungent stench would have lingered long after they were gone. There was no signs of animal, or scents of urine or dung. _Nothing_ living had passed through here for a _long_ time.

Sniffing exaggeratedly, Lia wrinkled her nose until her face was pointed downwards and then finally, to her partner. Murtagh waited for the inevitable, suppressing a groan.

_  
The only smell I am picking up here is us _she said, sounding very self-aware.

_  
I happen to think we smell delightful. This is the musk of saving an Empire! They can bloody well breathe it in and be thankful! _Murtagh chuckled to himself and reached for her hand once more.

_  
They are a bunch of thoroughly ungrateful bastards, aren't they? _Lia concluded, her tone light.

_  
To the core, but… do you know what I heard? _he whispered.

_  
What? _she whispered back, intrigued.

_  
I heard that they have steaming hot baths in the mountain…  
_

_  
_The mental images he created left little to her imagination, but in this dark and dreary place, she encouraged him to continue painting the picture with an eager smile.

_  
You have my attention good sir…  
_

_So… later on… when the place is empty… what say you and I find ourselves an empty bathing area and claim it as our own for the night?_

The suspense in his voice was comical. As if she would dream of denying him! Pretending to look thoughtful, she toyed with him and the let her confirming grin spread hugely across her face.

_  
That is one of the best ideas I have heard in a long, long time.  
_

They smirked at each other and then abruptly stopped in their tracks, their good mood faltering. Ajihad had come to a standstill; there was no reading his expression. Everyone waited for him to speak. He did not say a word. Murtagh tested the air again once, just for good measure and this time, the nothingness _bothered_ him.

_Lia…  
_

_  
Yes?  
_

_  
Why do I have the distinct feeling that we are wasting our time?  
_

_  
I d –  
_

Murtagh never heard Lia's reply. The explosion blasted them apart, ripping her hand away from his.

The Twins bided their time. Their task was a simple one; so startlingly simple that nobody would _ever_ suspect them. When they had reported the sighting of the Kull, who was there to argue? They were the most powerful members of Du Vrangr Gata. Why would they lie about such a thing? Ajihad had been quick to offer to lead a group of men. At their suggestion to invite the son of Morzan and the girl, the leader of The Varden had agreed with ease. And now, they were almost there… far enough down the tunnel to do what they had to do and ensure that there were no survivors, _except_ for the boy.

They had travelled far enough, there was no sign of the Kull and soon, people would begin to ask questions. Exchanging a glance, they dipped their heads infinitesimally; it was time. Powerful as they were, there was no need for spoken words. They only needed to _think _the incantation and it would happen. One began to chant the spell that would blast the cave walls apart and the other chanted an incantation that would protect the casters and one other, the future prisoner of the King. When the chanting stopped, the death began.

The sides of the cave wall exploded. Large, jagged chunks of rock flew in every direction, smashing, impaling, crushing and killing. The leader of the Varden never had a chance. He was smashed in the side of his face, pinned against the nearest wall, where the sickening remains of his head smeared against the rock. A downpour of heavy rock buried the remaining soldiers, and left them crushed to death or with heads split wide open.

Murtagh felt the cold, repulsive hand grab hold of his arm and watched in horror, as the explosion killed everyone in its wake. They were dead, but there was only _one _person that he could see. _Lia_. Lia lying on the floor, her face a bloodied mess, her eyes closed and a boulder pinning her against another.

"**NO!**" he screamed, reaching out his hand, only to have it press against some invisible shield.

This could _not _be happening. This could _not_ be real. This was a _nightmare_. This could _never_ happen. He pinched himself hard and he felt the pain.

"**NO! LIA NO!**" he screamed and in his desperation, he pulled out his knife.

There was no hesitation when he plunged the dagger into his leg. He _had _to wake from this nightmare. He _had_ to! _He had to_! The pain as the blade sliced through his thigh tore a scream from his throat and then he _knew _that it was real… _this_ was _real_.

"**LIA!**" he screamed one last time, his face white and tears stinging his eyes.

It was too late.  
There was no more time.  
Time and life were now out of his hands.  
In a blinding flash of light, he was separated from the body of the only person he had ever loved and from there on; he was dragged down into the dark.

Gasping, Lia found herself once more. Her fingers instinctively reached for the hand that she had held before she had been hit. There was no hand, only cold, hard rock. Pushing as hard as she could, she realised that she could carry out the movement without screaming in agony. She had somehow escaped breaking any bones. Gritting her teeth and roaring in the effort, she heaved the rock away from her and slowly sat herself up.

Opening her eyes was difficult; something was preventing her. Rubbing her hand over them, she could feel what it was - dried, congealed blood. Running her hands over her face, she could feel it everywhere, caked against her skin and matting her hair. Her forehead was raised and there was an angry gash near her hairline. Every effort caused her bruised body to ache, but there was a greater pain stabbing at her insides, dying to make its presence known. A pain that was beyond anything that she had ever felt.

It hit her… harder than the rocks that had brought the ends of those around her and stronger than any magical assault that she had ever endured. The wind was knocked out of her and her hand reached out to empty air…

_Murtagh…  
_

No reply.

_MURTAGH!  
_

Still no reply.

"**MURTAGH!**" she screamed aloud.

The only reply was her echo.

Reaching out with every part of her being, she searched for him, groping blindly, trying to find any part of him - his _essence_, his _being_… even the _faintest_ traces of his existence within her.

He was _gone_.

Every small sound disappeared, every colour faded and every sense in her body shut down, as the empties inside her tore her apart. She was empty, he was no where near her and he was not inside her.

Leaping to her feet, she began to tear at the rocks that surrounded her and with grabbing, bleeding fingers, she unveiled every corpse that existed in the area. There were soldiers, there was Ajihad, but of the Twins and Murtagh there was no sign.

Fighting the pain, she ran the length of the tunnel screaming his name over and over again, desperate to find him. The emptiness caused heaving sobs to break her stride, but still she would not give up. He had to be alive; he simply _had_ to be. He was _not_ allowed to die. Not without her.

She would not stop until she found him, but her body and mind, crippled by the loss, blanketed her in night once more. All too soon, she was sprawled out cold on the ground, as her tortured frame and spirit wanted nothing more than to heal from a wound that would never close.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25 

A familiar hand appeared before her and clutched in its grasp was a collection of flowers. Their meaning was clear. Without thinking, Lia rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"_No_…" she warned severely.

Eragon sighed.

"Lia…" he whispered quietly.

"No," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Lia, listen to me," he pleaded.

"Leave me be Rider," she growled, removing her blade and resting it across her knees.

The flowers were thrown against the wall in aggravation, as he crouched down and dared to grab her by the shoulders. Glowering up at him, he ignored the hate in her eyes that were rimmed in red.

"Lia, this _has_ to stop," he insisted.

"He is _not_ dead," she hissed.

"_Yes_, he _is_," he argued.

"_No_, he is _not_…" she argued back, her voice pained, as she sought to convince him with her eyes.

"How do you know?" he demanded.

"I don't know, but he _can't_ be dead!" she yelled back at him.

Taking a deep breath, Eragon dreaded what he was about to say, but she left him no other choice. All the evidence was there; Murtagh was _dead_. There had been a terrible accident and the Kull had finished them off. In the end, even the great warrior was no match for his enemy. All that was left of him was his torn tunic, which now lay clutched in Lia's other hand, as they sat in the very spot where it was found. His friend was dead. He had accepted it, they all had. Only Lia refused to believe and it was painful to watch. Never had he seen someone exist in such a state of denial.

When they had found her unconscious, they had brought her back to the dragon hold to tend to her wounds. The moment her eyes had sprang wide open; she had bolted for the door. It had taken several people to restrain her, but she had screamed and fought over and over again, claiming that Murtagh was alive somewhere in the caves! When they had tried to tell her what had happened, she had not heard a word. She simply could not understand why they would not help her find him.

It had been a terrible day and there was no stopping her. In the end, she had had to be incapacitated. It was an action that brought bile to Eragon's throat. Seeing her forced to the ground and drugged against her will was a sight that tore at his chest. Ella had wept against his shoulder and looked away.

The only sign that somewhere deep inside, Lia continued to exist, were the string of curse words that flew from her lips and the fact that she broke several noses and one arm before they had their way with her. In that, Eragon tried to cling to the hope that she would find herself once more and accept that her partner was dead…gone.

That had been yesterday. Today, remembering the assault of the day before, she had woken an empty shell. Whilst the rest of them had attended Ajihad's funeral, she had taken to the caves. No one asked her where she would go. From this moment forth, this would be the only place that existed for her. The cave.

Eragon had hoped that her time spent sitting and waiting would make her realise that there was no one _to_ wait for. _No one_ was coming back. Picking flowers as a gesture of farewell, he had been prepared to lay the memory of his friend to rest and do what he could for the warrior that was left behind.

He had been wrong, he could see it in her eyes. She would _never_ give in. She left him no choice but to hurt her. Hurt her to do what was best for her.

"Let me ask you _this_…" he said carefully, warily, unable to look at her face. "Can you feel him…_any_ part of him… _anything_ that may suggest that _somehow_, somewhere, he is _alive_?"

He dared to look up then and saw that her eyes were shut tight, her grip on her sword hard and her free hand clenched into a fist.

"No… but _that_ isn't the point," she said through her teeth.

"Then what _is_?" he asked softly.

"I would just know!" she barked up at him. "Our bond was _beyond _thought or feeling! I may not feel any sign of him, but I _know_ he is alive! If he were dead, I would _feel_ it! I would feel like a part of _me_ had died and _that_ part of me _lives_, so he _must_ be alive!"

"What if that part of you just isn't ready to let go? What if you are _wrong_?" he countered.

The first signs of doubt flitted across her face at his words. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, before slowly rising to her feet. Looking for the first signs of defeat, Eragon's stomach lurched at the sudden empty look in her eyes that stared back at him.

_What have I done?_ He asked himself. There was no soul behind those eyes, no living being. Had her false hope been all that had held her in one piece? Had he ripped away form her the only thing that she had left? Had that even been his _right_? Was he _always_ destined to make mistake after mistake, hurting all those around him?

Wanting to comfort her, he reached out a hand. She didn't see it; she couldn't see anything. Without a word, she walked away. Listening to the soft retreat of her fading steps, Eragon gazed at the spot where she had sat. Sadly, he crouched and lay his hand against the blood stained wall, the only sign of his old friend's demise.

"Murtagh", he breathed. "If you have any ties left to our world, you _must_ help her. I fear you have left her damaged beyond repair and there is nothing any of us can do for her," he admitted to thin air.

Giving one final nod, he turned to leave.

"Rest in peace my friend," he whispered over his shoulder.

Then he left.

Erika stood outside the catacombs in a brooding silence. Ajihad had received a worthy farewell, as had the soldiers and much to her disgust, The _Twins_. But of Murtagh, there had been no mention and for reasons unfathomable, this made her _angry_.

What bothered her even more was her unexplainable urge to find the deceased warrior's living female counterpart and offer her _condolences_! What was the _matter_ with her? They had meant _nothing_! She had helped them to help _herself_! The death of one and the welfare of the other should have had no meaning to her once her person mission was fulfilled.

This unexplainable consideration towards another and the unhealthily strange sense of loss… it was a sign of _weakness_. Being subject to these thoughts and feelings brought bile to the back of her throat.

Spitting on the ground, she rid herself of the vile aftertaste and scowled. No more would she waste her time brooding. She had her own life to lead and she not consent to anyone or anything interfering with her happiness, living or dead. Erasing the warriors from her mind, she set about returning to normality.

Gazing down from the lee, Ella sat with her legs swung over the edge and her hands gripping the sides. Beside her, with her large head jutting just past the outcrop, was Saphira.

It was easy to make out Lia's form down below. The slight breeze tousled her long hair and they watched her with sorrow in their hearts, as she walked between the small huts looking completely and utterly lost.

A lump rose in Ella's throat. Her and the dragon had sat in silence since Eragon had left. Now, loneliness and worry caused her to speak aloud.

"Saphira… I am terrified."

_As am I…_ the dragon replied, glumly.

"She is so _broken_…so unable to accept it and when she _does_… I _think_…" she choked on the next words. "I think she will give _up_."

Saphira understood the implication behind the girl's words.

_I will not let her!_ Saphira promised with a defiant growl.

For a while, the dragon's assurance was comforting. The thought of Lia taking her own life was unbearable; it couldn't be allowed to happen and yet, watching the girl meander aimlessly, with no point or purpose, she wondered what was worse?

"Maybe it's the only way," Ella's voice was barely audible to her own ears.

_There is always another way_! Saphira snarled.

Struck by memory after memory of every moment she had ever spent with them, every conversion and every silence, she found her head shaking slowly, deliberately from side to side.

"I don't think so… not for _them_… I don't think they ever planned to be apart…"

_He would not have wanted her to do that to herself!_ Saphira cried out, appalled.

"Maybe… but if _she_ were the one that lay dead, _he_ would have followed her. I _know_ it Saphira, I can feel it in my _gut_," she said, her tone bleak.

_What are you implying Ella? That if Lia chooses to follow him, we should simply allow it?_ the dragon demanded angrily.

Ella's shoulders slumped and she felt the beginnings of a new clawing at her chest, as she acknowledged that her friend might not be alive for much longer.

"Whilst she thinks that he is alive, she will fight… but when the fighting stops…so will she. There is no life for her without him. They were a part of each other… their bond was too deep… without him she _has_ no life…Would you rather she lived the rest of her days in misery?"

_This is beyond ridiculous! This is madness! I wish that I had never been so stupid as to bless them with this bond in the first place! Damn my actions! Damn them to hell!_

"If you _hadn't_ given them your gift, both you, Eragon and all hope would be _dead_," Ella mumbled, struck by the hopelessness.

The silence that fell between them then was final. There was nothing more to say. From their great height, all they could do was watch their friend and hope… selfishly hope that she would _never _give in to the truth…

Feet dragging across the ground, Lia paid no attention to where she was going. It didn't matter; she just needed to keep moving, for if she stopped, she may have actually had to pay the Rider's words some heed.

She was dangerously close to considering them and she didn't want to. She wasn't ready and more than that, she _knew_ that he was wrong, she _knew_ it and _yet_…

Was it so _hard _to believe that her mind _was_ protecting itself? Turning a blind eye to the void that existed within her? If she forced herself to examine her case as if she were another, then she too would have reached a similar conclusion.

But no other could know or understand what they had had, not even The Rider. His bond with Saphira was _entirely_ different – maybe even _weaker_ in comparison. How _else_ has he not sensed his dragon's lingering presence when _she_ had felt it? If Murtagh had died, she would have _felt_ his life extinguish. She _had_ to believe it…

_But what if you are wrong?_ The small voice she tried to keep at bay asked her in a sweet and tempting tone.

_What if he died and here you remain wasting time? What if his soul is so far passed that you cannot find him ever again? What if you wasted precious time breathing air when you should have sought to join him in a heartbeat!_

Suddenly all her garments felt too tight and constricting. Fingering her collar, she tried to release the pressure on her throat. Nausea hit her and stumbling towards the nearest hut, she leaned against it, taking deep gasping breaths.

"_No_," she hissed fiercely.

In the moment that she fought back her fear, she heard the noise. It was a nose that had her question whether she was asleep or awake, for only in her strangest dreams had she heard the purring sound. Just one blissful second was spent in the delusion that none of this was real; a moment that was broken by the sudden pressure against her leg.

Flinching, her eyes darted down to see a large, ginger cat. Lowering her head, she stared into the creature's large, black eyes and saw there an intelligence that somehow, pulled at the threads in her memory.

The cat purred louder, wound itself around her legs and then proceeded to walk away. Lia followed.

Past the homes of the inhabitants of the Varden and into Tronjheim they walked, always staying just out of sight, taking the most concealed paths. Relying on the cat, Lia trailed after it obediently, without questioning the state of her mental health.

She wasn't quite able to accept that the being in her sleep and this animal were the same, but she recognised to whom the creature belonged and suddenly, there was hope, certain and sure. And if there was anyone that could help her, it was _this_ particular _someone_.

Up steep steps they climbed and finally, down an abandoned hallway and upon entering a musty old room, Lia came face to face with Angela the herbalist and her cat, Solembum.

"Greetings child, it has been many years since out paths last crossed. I have always wondered what had become of you. I heard rumours of two warriors and I suspected one of them was you; you have _quite _a reputation," the strange lady greeted her kindly.

Solembum took his place by her side, still purring, still staring at Lia with those knowing, expectant eyes.

"Angela," Lia greeted her in turn and then fell silent.

This was the time for ceremonious politeness and she owed the herbalist much, but there was only one question that she wished to ask.

"How can I-" she began.

"_Ah_," Angela interrupted with a heavy sigh. "I was afraid of this…"

Lia frowned. "It is not much to ask."

"But it _is_," Angela spoke, more to herself than anyone else. "Do you not see? You ask me to contact the _dead_ and _this_ I cannot do, nor would I help you even if I knew how."

With her expression darkening, Lia folded her arms, parted her feet and refused to move.

"You _misunderstand _me Lia, it is nothing personal against _you_," the woman added reassuringly. "But there are _some_ things, some _magics_ that are best left _untouched_. Those that are dead should _not_ be disturbed. I cannot help you reach him, but maybe I can offer you something for your _pain_… let me _see_."

Angela turned before Lia could answer and opened a trunk behind her, carefully removing bottles and examining each label. As she did so, she muttered the names that were clumsily printed on every one.

Lia stood rooted to the spot, eyes cast down in her defeated fury. Prepared to simply turn and leave, her heart thumped erratically as the words, "Ra' zac" were muttered, before the herbalist continued to prattle on. Turning slowly, Lia was struck by an idea. It would be extremely unpleasant, but it was worth the risk, anything was.

As Angela was bent over the seemingly bottomless trunk, Lia's eyes raked over the bottles that lay scattered behind her and honed in on one that stood out from the rest. It was too good to be true. The writing on the side stood bold, clear and invited her to take it.

Taking a furtive step forward, she noticed that the cat was watching her and it look amused, if cats could even look such a way. Freezing, she wondered if the pet would give her away; foil her hastily concocted plan. The cat only watched. Lia ignored it and crept forward, until her fingers brushed the cool neck of the bottle. Snatching it up quickly, she stuffed it inside her cloak and began her hasty retreat.

When she had returned to her original position, she fought to keep her voice calm.

"Very well... I will respect your methods of practice. I am sorry to have troubled you."

Without a further word, Lia left. She kept her pace calm and casual as she paced down the hall, however, one she reached the stairs; she was running.

Angela held her crouch until she could no longer hear the girl's feet hammering down the carved steps.

"Did she take it?" she asked her cat conversationally.

_Yes _ Solembum purred.

"Then it begins," she declared happily.

Satisfied, the herbalist slammed the lid of the trunk shut.

Pelting down the corridors, halls and open ground, Lia ignored every strange look and every protesting cry as she bumped into any that stood in her path. She would not stop, _not_ until she had reached her destination. It would not be long now; she was already in the cave.

This time, there was no light and she didn't need any. Remembering every inch of the dark tunnel, she ran on until she almost tripped and fell over the first of the rocky boulders, the remains of the explosion.

Feeling around. Lia found the exact place where she had fallen when the blast hit and decided that it was as good a place as any, she seated herself with her back against the blood stained wall.

With shaky hands, she removed the bottle and pulled out the stopper. Alone, she wondered how she would survive the nightmares induced by this vile stuff. There was no body to wake her this time. It didn't matter.

Tipping the bottle upside down, Lia downed the contents, gagging after every gulp, but she did not stop until it was empty. This was her one chance, her _last _chance; there would be _no_ precautionary measures, nor trial and error experiments. _This _was it. The effects, due the concentrated and excessive amount, were immediate.

She remembered it all from the night on the hill and it was a thousand times worse. There was no gradual, feeling of cold creeping into her bones or slow build up or paranoia. There was only ice and terror. Cowering against the wall, she shook convulsively.

"_Murtagh_…" she choked against the sudden unexplainable tears.

Then she slumped to the floor, where the evil waited for her.

At the sound of soft, slow steps, Ella turned. There, Eragon stood. His face was ashen and his eyes ridden with guilt. She knew that face and so did Saphira. Angry smoke jetted from the dragon's nostrils. Rising to her wobbly feet, Ella groaned in exasperation.

"_Eragon_," she wailed. "_What_ did you do _this_ time?"

_Little one…_ Saphira asked, with baited breath.

Slowly meeting their accusing eyes, his voice trembled as he spoke.

"_I think… I think I just killed her_."

Saphira roared in anguish, Ella clutched her hands to her hair and the Rider began to shake,

"_What do I do_?" he begged desperately.

The dragon and the girl exchanged a loaded look. Suddenly, all that had been said before meant nothing. Selfish or not, they would not let Lia take her own life.

_Get on_ Saphira growled to the both of them.

Hastily clambering onto her back, they were barely given time to secure their hold, as Saphira threw herself over the edge.

Submerged into the darkest depths of her worst fears, Lia was assaulted by her past, physically, mentally, emotionally and yet she survived. Ignoring every scratch, every grope, and every pain, she focused on the one thing that she wanted to see and the only thing that was important to her. Only when every inch of her could no longer bear the agony, she materialised onto the scene.

The blackness gave way to what looked like the passageway to a dungeon. Jerking her heard from side to side, Lia flinched from the faces that were sure to spring out from the shadows. Even when no one came, her breathing was quick and her arms instinctively crossed her chest.

Her eyes were swollen, her lip split open ad her clothes were ripped and torn to shreds. Red welts covered her exposed arms, the marks of grabbing hands and pinching fingers clearly visible. Her body from the waist down, both inside and out, throbbed and stung from the onslaught of the abuse she had endured. It hurt to walk, to move and she was frightened. The thought of somebody touching her ever again brought a scream to her throat, but she held it all in.

Beaten, raped and attacked over and over again, Lia was traumatised. In her state of shock, she could no longer remember who she was or why she was here. All that she could see was that there was only one was to go and that was down… _down_ into the dungeons.

Wincing and gasping with each and every painful step, Lia descended the steps and hoped that wherever they would lead, she could simply lay down and die. Broken in every sense of the word, there was nothing left for her to live for.

When her foot touched flat ground; she saw that she was not alone. A whimper rose in her throat at the prospect of the inhabitants who would inevitably turn and come to her. They didn't move. They didn't seem to notice her at all. Too frightened to move, she could only stare at the scene before her.

Two bald headed men stood standing over a young man bound to a table. There was something disturbingly familiar about the three of them, but from this distance, it was difficult to tell. Lia slowly dragged her feet forward, only stopping when she could see the boy's face.

Her insides turned to ice as she recognised him. She could not remember who he was or what he was called, but the second that her eyes landed on his unconscious face, she knew that she _loved _him and that he was in _great _danger.

Murtagh awoke and the first thing that he saw were the two hideous faces smiling down at him with grim satisfaction. He wanted to shout up at them, curse them with every foul word that he knew and then squeeze their throats until he saw the life dim from their eyes.

He was denied it _all_. Firstly, his lips had been sealed together by some form of magic. Fighting it, he tried to prize his lips apart, but they would not budge. Shackles bound his arms and legs and he was laid across some table. Ignoring the cutting of iron into his ankles and wrists, he strained to defy it all, get up and kill them anyway. One of the Twins tutted his disapproval and then casually raised a hand.

Murtagh's body, that had rose a few inches off the surface, slammed back down again in one, hard movement. Breathing heavily through his nose, he glared up at them murderously.

"Tell us everything you know, _especially_ about the Rider and his dragon," one asked politely.

"There is the easy way or-" his voice trailed and then he laughed. "No, actually, there is _only_ the hard way. You _will_ tell us, or we will be forced to be _persuasive_ and to be perfectly honest, I _do_ hope you allow us a chance to use our new toys. It has been _so long_," he said in a wistful voice.

Remembering his nightmare about Lia, Murtagh almost felt a pang of relief. She was not the one to be tortured, _he_ was. This made him relax a little. He had saved her from that much at least. The nothingness without her brought him more pain and distress than his current predicament, but for some reason, regardless of his last image of her, he did _not_ believe that she had died. After all, this was Lia. No mere explosion would bring her end. She would be found, looked after and then, she would try and find him.

His heart both leapt and went stone cold at the thought. He wanted nothing more than to feel her presence in him again, feel her in his arms and feel _whole_ again, but the thought of her at his enemy's mercy whilst _he_ was held prisoner was too much to bear.

She would try to reach him. Whether she could ever find him was something else entirely. It didn't matter. He _had_ to stay alive, so he could somehow protect her from these fiends. Not getting himself killed seemed a harder task that it should have been. He had to tell them _something_, but not _everything-_ just enough. If he could hold onto his mind, if his grip on his memories was strong enough, maybe he could even lie? Hide most of –

_Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!! _the muffled scream bounced off his sealed mouth.

His back arched high as the electricity crackled down his spine. It stopped and then he fell back again, eyes rolling back in their sockets, blinking until he could focus once more.

The faces continued to smile down at him and his eyes widened in horror as he discovered that something was missing from his mind's grasp. Terrified, he clung harder to what was left and as he struggled to remember what was lost, one of the twins drew a knife.

"Thank you, than was interesting", one said, pleased.

"But, there is much you hold back," the other added. "And we have the perfect means to make you talk."

Bracing himself, Murtagh became rigid. The bald headed men laughed.

"Oh, we have something a little bit more interesting than _that_. As it happens, there is _some_ joy to be gained from good old-fashioned _physical _persuasion. For _instance_…" one smiled, holding the tip of the blade before Murtagh's face. "It looks ordinary _doesn't_ it? It _is_, but we have sealed it with a rather _special_ spell. You _see_… the blade cuts, but it also _heals_. Therefore, delivering pain, but leaving not a mark. Very useful in a situation such as… _this_."

The knife slashed across Murtagh's throat and healed in an instant, but blood had still managed to seep through and a strange, suppressed gargling noise sounded through his nose. Another piece of his mind went missing. They had discovered something else. Sweat began to pour down his face, as he knew not what they had learned or how much longer he could hold on.

"Are you ready to co-operate?" the one with the knife asked.

Murtagh's eyes narrowed defiantly.

"_Good_," the other replied.

The knife came down once more, until it was buried hilt deep in his chest and then, slowly, the knife was dragged down, across his chest, down his stomach, down to his groin, across his thigh and then slithered its way down his leg.

His lips did not remain sealed together for long. No magic could suppress the screams, as his lips tore themselves apart and the sound of his agony echoed all around, as if it were the only sound for miles. With his mind turned upside down from the unbearable torture, his memories were extracted in seconds.

It was to late, they had taken too much and yet, there was one part of him that he would _never_ let them have because it was the one thing that belonged to him and he would not share it with _anyone_.

With what little remained of his strength, he took all that concerned Lia and buried it deep- _so deep_ inside of him, that they would _never _find it. Maybe he would never find it again, but he _had_ to keep it safe. Everything else, every secret, every second of his existence, every piece of information that they had every wished to acquire was now _theirs_.

He felt the blade dragged clear of his flesh and he gasped through the bloodied, ripped mess that was his broken mouth. Looking down, all that remained of his torment was one single thing line of blood. Rolling his head back, he closed his eyes and began to shiver. Although the pain was gone, the memory was so fresh, so intense that it was as if it remained. At least the worse of it is over, he thought. He was wrong.

Something cold grabbed hold of his left hand and turned it palm upward. Murtagh's' eyes shot from the beautiful silver face engraved there to the monster that sneered down upon it mockingly.

"And what is this? Some kind of tattoo? What a _wonderful_ likeness it is of your… _woman_."

A fresh surge of hatred flared through Murtagh's veins at the insult and he tried to yank his hand away. The grip was too hard and seeing his protest, a sadistic glint appeared in the monster's eye.

"Your way of life is at an end. I suggest you _erase _any links to your past... or ... allow _me_?" he suggested kindly.

From no where, the other twin presented his brother with a red, hot poker. There was nothing magical about this crude weapon. It was simple and unlike the knife, it was intended to hurt and to scar.

"_No, no, no, no_!" Murtagh began to mumble in between his destroyed lips, blood bubbling between every repetition of the word.

They paid his pleads no heed and whilst one held his hand firm, the other brought the scorching rod down upon his palm and held it firmly against his skin, until the stench of his burning flesh reached his flaring nostrils and he screamed. He cried out, as the skin melted away from his palm, taking with it the only representation of the bond that he could no longer feel. Lia screamed too.

In a place where he could not see, existing in the very same moment, Lia had watched in horror, as the boy was tortured. Forgetting all her concerns for her own safety, she lurched forward, hoping to tear the men away from him, only to find that her fingers passed through thin air. It wasn't real, but it _was_.

Unable to leave, unable to look away, she only stood by his lolling head and sobbed, as she witnessed his pain. Reaching out to touch him, she stroked the air around his face and wept. Only when he raised his palm and she saw her image, did she remember who he was.

As the flesh burned on his palm, her own began to bubble and burn and in the cry that escaped her lips was the name she had forgotten and from now on, never would.

"Murtagh!" she screamed and then, there was no calling of his name, only the long, cold shriek as the pain in their hands grew worse and worse.

It was not difficult finding Lia in the dark. By the time Eragon and Ella had reached the mouth of the cave, her screams led them to her and upon finding her, Eragon muttered a spell and a small fire glowed in between his hands. Dropping on all fours, Ella grabbed Lia and began to shake her.

"Be careful!" Eragon yelled, knowing Lia's violent tendencies when she was awoken against her will.

Ella knew it to and didn't care. When she realised that shaking was amounting to nothing, Ella pulled back a fist and fought back the rising tears. She took in every inch of the warrior before her; tattered, beaten black and blue and wailing as if something were attacking her and now she would add another wound to her friend.

"_Forgive me_," she whispered and then slammed her fist across Lia's face.

Eyes flying open, Lia's scream abruptly stopped. Unable or unwilling to see those around her, she could only stare at her charred and blistered palm, her face horror-struck. Then, she was on her feet. Ella stepped back, but Eragon stood in her path.

"Get out of my way Rider!" she ordered.

"I cannot…I _cannot _let you hurt yourself any more," he spoke in earnest.

"You think I did this to _myself_?!" Lia gestured to her body in disgust.

"I will do what I must to keep you safe," he stated calmly, staring at the ground.

Lia's mind was reeling from the vision and she did not have time to convince them that she was not insane. They did not matter.

"He is alive. Now, you either help me or _stand aside_." Lia warned.

Eragon sighed.

"Lia… you leave me no choice," he said regrettably.

"No," she corrected him. "You leave _me_ no choice."

He had just enough time to raise a questioning brow, before her fist smashed once into his nose, once into his stomach and finally across the temple, leaving him crumpling unconscious to the ground. Ella groaned and knelt by his side.

"Help your love," Lia said bitterly. "For now I seek to help mine."

Grabbing the empty bottle, Lia did not look back as she ran.

Staring after her friend, Ella wanted to know what had happened. Not for one second did she believe that the damage was self-inflicted. She had to discover the truth and yet, she could not leave the unconscious fool here by himself. Easing he tension, by slapping him around the face harder than was necessary, she waited for him to respond.

Lia's legs skidded to a halt when she rounded the corner and entered Angela's chamber once more. The herbalist eyed her with concern. The cat purred and Lia wasted no time.

"Help me find him. Help me find him right now!" she demanded.

"My dear girl… what _happened_ to you?" Angela asked in a tight voice.

Throwing the bottle onto the ground by her feet and rolling it towards the woman, Lia allowed the action to answer the question. As the bottle bumped into the side of Angela's foot, she glanced at the label and then at the girl with narrowed eyed.

Lifting her damaged palm to be seen, Lia met the woman's eyes with a defiant glare.

"He is alive. I did what I _had_ to do. Now… help me."

"You steal from me and then demand my aid? Your sense of manners has slipped since we have last met", she replied coolly.

"Please…" Lia now begged in a strained voice. "You are my only hope now, the only one who can help me. He is alive and I do not know where, but I _must_ go to him! I _have _to find him! _Please_, I will do _anything_ that you ask!"

"_That_ is a dangerous offer to make and one that should _not_ be offered _lightly_," the herbalist replied dryly.

"I will do _anything_," Lia stated, her tone resolute.

Angela scrutinised the girl for a few moments and then exhaled wearily. When she met the girl's pleading eyes, her expression hardened.

"There _is_ a way…" she began.

Lia's eyes lit up and she was about to speak. Raising a hand. The herbalist silenced her.

"Hear me out," she said. "I have the ingredients you will require, I know the ritual and the words that must be said, but there are several things that you must be aware of.

Firstly, the spell is not reliable. It will take you close to who you want to find, but how near or far, I cannot say. Secondly, the required words are of the ancient tongue and you may only speak them once. To repeat them again or to share them with another is forbidden and thirdly, you _cannot_ do this by yourself.

Your will alone is not enough- the energy required would kill you. You need two others and not just _any_ two, they must be _willing_ and they must _share_ your desire.

The ritual will leave them weakened for days, but without their strength, it will be impossible and without their additional want to find him, you will not stand a chance.

If you can find such volunteers, you must form a circle with them in the last place that he was seen. You must light the fire, burning the herbs, join hands and focus on _nothing_ but _him_. Then, you chant the words inside your mind and then… what happens will happen."

Taking in all that was said, Lia pulled her shoulder back and reached out an expectant hand. Nodding, Angela removed several items from her trunk and also picked up the empty bottle by her feet. Handing the girl the necessary ingredients, she also passed her the empty bottle.

"_This_ is my price," Angela stated. "Fill the bottle with that which is missing and present it to me the next time we meet."

Lia snatched the bottle without hesitation, pushing the question as to how to slay a Ra'zac to the back of her mind.

"I accept," she agreed.

Smiling wryly, Angela stepped forward and put her lips to the girl's ear. Slowly, she said the words that would be needed. With closed eyes, Lia memorised all that she heard and when she opened them once more, they were filled with gratitude.

"_Thank you_," she whispered.

Angela patted her shoulder maternally and watched as they girl exited her chamber with a new sense of purpose.

As Lia marched down the corridor, she already knew the names of the two she would ask. The first was easy; the second was one she would rather not approach. Descending the stairs, she saw the person walking up them towards her. This could be no accident.

"Erika," Lia said, the name slipping uncomfortably from her lips.

Stiffening at the voice, Erika stopped and looked up at the girl with a mixture of curiosity and irritation.

"I need your help," Lia stated simply and walked past the staring, beautiful girl without looking to see if she was followed. She knew that she would be.

For a few heartbeats, Erika tried to force her legs away from the girl, but disobeying her, they'd turned and kept pace with the warrior girl. Soon, they found themselves outside the Rider's chambers and Lia entered without knocking and saw that Ella sat alone.

Rising to her feet, the young girl was torn between looking concerned and being angry with Lia for beating to Rider. It was no use; she was sure that he deserved it. Running towards her, Ella held her at arms' length and examined Lia's state.

"Lia what happened!" she cried.

"I do not have time to explain, but I need your help."

"_Anything_," Ella assured her.

"Good," Lia said. "Follow me… both of you."

Noting Erika for the first time, Ella stalled and then nodded. Erika nodded back and then they followed as Lia led the way. They knew where she would take them and as they entered the cave, a sense of destiny brought a shiver down their spines and a prickle to their skin.

Reaching where the others had fallen, Lia stopped and began to assemble the contents that had been concealed in her cloak. Erika and Ella watched her curiously, until some dried, unusual twigs seemed to be prepared to feed a fire.

Sitting, Lia beckoned them to join her. They sat and staring at her expectantly, waited for her to state their purpose.

"There is a spell that will send me to him... wherever he is, but I need the help of two willing people. People who want him to be found, people that want him alive... _do_ you?" she asked them sternly.

"_Of course_", Ella agreed, offended that she was even asked.

"Yes…" Erika said, quicker than she would have liked.

"You will be left weak, but you will recover and if it works, I will be gone."

Erika simply nodded. Ella's face crumpled, but she dipped her head once.

"What do we have to do?" Erika asked.

"We must join hands and you must think of nothing but him...the rest is up to me," Lia replied.

"Lia…" Ella said softly.

"Yes" she asked.

"When you find him… beat the shit out of him for me," she said with a shaky laugh.

"I will," Lia promised with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," they replied.

Lighting the fire, Lia waited for the flames to change to a brilliant green and then, she reached for their hands. Forming a circle, they closed their eyes and thought of nothing but him.

Lia didn't know how long they had sat there, but when Murtagh's face was clear in her mind, she knew it was time. Speaking the words in her mind, she waited for whatever would happen.

At first there was nothing and then came the pull. It was like being torn from the ground and her body. All their hands tightened and she wondered why she could still feel them, as she spiralled out of their current place of existence, existing only as a blur. Soon thought became impossible, as the nausea took over and she could concentrate of nothing other than her love.

When Eragon returned from his flight with Saphira, they were in a state of panic. Not only was Lia missing, but so was Ella; they could not feel her presence anywhere. Heading towards the great hall, Eragon's stride was halted, as the herbalist, whom he had not seen since his days in Teirm stepped into his path.

"_Angela_?" he stammered in disbelief.

"Do not look for them Rider, for they are gone," she told him kindly.

"_But...what?... why_?!" he stuttered in disbelief.

"Your paths are no longer the same. They must take a _different _path from now on and you must _not_ follow them. You have your own destiny Rider and they have theirs."

"_But_…" he argued weakly.

"It is time to let them go," she said soothingly.

"Will I ever see them again?" he asked desperately.

Angela could only smile sadly as she walked away.

Opening their eyes, one by one, the three stood hand in hand, staring up at the enclosed city and the foreboding castle in its heart. Too afraid to let go of each other, they tightened their hold.

"What _happened_?" Ella whimpered.

"I... I don't know" Lia replied uneasily.

"Where _are_ we?" Erika said, her voice strained.

"_Uru' baen_," Lia muttered in disgust.

The faces of the others blanched. Lia eyed the castle with pure hatred and determination.

_I will find you…_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26 

She could not see him, she could not feel him, but she knew that somewhere, behind those walls, he was there. This was no longer the time for wallowing in pity and despair; this was the time for action, planning and vengeance. Something was happening here, something bigger than she could have imagined and somehow, Murtagh was a part of it.

Gazing up at the impenetrable castle, past the impossibly high walls, Lia vowed that she would not sleep or rest, until she could feel his presence once more. Whether it would only be for a minute or a second, it mattered not. He was close… she could _taste_ it in the air and _feel_ it, as though he was merely hidden behind a pane of glass. It may have only been a gut feeling, but she trusted it like no other.

The pitiful Lia of the past two days melted away and once more, the survivor and fighter that she was born to be had returned. As her brain registered the additional numbers at her side, a plan began to unfold. With only seconds to accomplish what she must, Lia dropped their hands, as if they were hot coals, spun around and pushed them firmly away from her.

"You must go," she ordered them. "_Both_ of you. I know not how this has happened, but this place is not safe for you…_either_ of you. Leave now, while you still can. This is _my_ fight and I will fight _alone_."

Erika assumed a theatrical thoughtful pose and then made a dramatic grab for Ella's arm. "You don't need to ask _me_ twice. _Come_, let us _flee_."

Wriggling out of Erika's grasp, Ella stepped back and stared at Lia with wide eyes.

"How can I leave, knowing that you will be in there _alone_?" she asked Lia, her eyes filled with hurt.

Lia groaned in exasperation. "_Please_ Ella, I shall feel safer knowing that at least _one_ person that I care for is not knee deep in life endangering _shit_."

"I'm _not_ leaving you," Ella replied angrily, folding her arms and planting her feet apart.

Glancing between the both of them, Erika took in their adamant expressions and shrugged her shoulders.

"Suit yourselves," she sang, without a care in the world.

Willing to leave the both of them in the shadow of this evil place, Erika prepared to flit away at high speed, away from danger, away from it all and back to the safety of the Varden. That was, until she heard Lia's muttered words...

"Yes… _do_ leave," Lia spoke quietly, but loud enough to be heard by all.

A bitter smile twisted Lia's lips, as she grabbed Ella's arm, pulled the girl by her side and began to walk away. The next part of the plan was crucial…she counted the seconds as she walked, waiting for that which was inevitable.

Erika turned her head a fraction. "You would _like _that _wouldn't_ you? Me _gone_."

Satisfied, Lia paused and shot the girl a malicious smile over her shoulder.

"You have _no _idea," Lia replied, infusing her tone with as much venom as she could – it was _not_ a difficult task.

Erika was trapped and she knew it. Whether the warrior knew it was another question entirely and one which she did not wish to consider, not for the moment at least.

Facing the two girls, she placed a pondering finger to her lips. At the very same moment, Lia presented a show of irritation and Ella, the only one who did _not _possess an ulterior motive, could only shoot them baffled glances.

Tracing patterns in the dirt with the tip of her shoe, Erika grinned up at Lia from underneath her lashes.

"Do you know what _I_ think?" she asked in her appealing voice.

"_No_ and to be perfectly _honest_, I don't _care_," Lia replied dryly.

Erika ignored the dismissal. "_I_ think that I should _very_ much like to _stay_."

Letting go of Ella's arm, Lia folded her own and fixed her adversary with a steely stare. "Well, _I_ think I should _very _much like _you_ to _leave_."

The warrior's tone was final.

Erika's smile widened. "Oh _really_? Well I've just had _another_ marvellous idea. I think I should stay and do you know what _else_? I think I should _rather_ like to _help_ you on your little rescue mission to save that rather _handsome _rogue."

With hands bunching into fists, Lia's face reddened and her eyes burned with a fiery passion.

"I do _not _need your help and _neither_ does _he_," she said through her teeth. "So I _strongly_ suggest that you _leave _or _perhaps_ you would care for me to _aid _you in the process?" Lia offered in a hopeful tone.

Unruffled by her threat, Erika eyed the warrior with a condescending tilt of her head and her mouth turned up at one corner.

"My _dear _warrior… you may have your _brawn_, but your skills are _no_ match for my _speed_, so do _not_ waste your breath with _empty_ threats."

Lia could only glower, knowing the words that were said were in fact perfectly true. Seeing the understanding in the warrior's eyes, Erika smiled vindictively and sought to rub further salt into the open wound.

"_So_, let me make myself _perfectly_ clear... in order to save that attractive _cretin_, you will need _my_ help, unless of course you have some incredible plan to breach the walls and save him with just your brute strength and foul language?"

"I _have_ a plan," Lia announced, a little _too_ quickly to convince anyone.

"_Wonderful_. What _is_ it?" Erika enquired politely.

Averting her eyes, Lia bit down on the inside of her cheek.

Erika laughed mockingly. "_That's_ what I _thought_ warrior!" 

Striding past her, Erika was still laughing when she began her walk to the wall.

"And who _knows_? With your _uselessness_ in this situation, when your _dearly _beloved sees that _I _was the one that did the most to save him, _maybe_ he will have a change of _heart_?" she suggested, with a triumphant giggle.

After the exchange, Ella moved herself beside Lia, who was positively fuming; that was, until the strange girl had progressed a fair amount from where they stood. As soon as she was sure that they were out of hearing distance, Lia's fury evaporated instantly and a grin spread across her face.

Not in a million years would she have sunk so low as to ask the abnormal girl for her aid, but she was short of allies and she knew that she needed all the help that she could get. Bearing _that_ in mind, there was no choice in the matter – the girl had magical abilities that _would_ prove crucial to _their _task.

It was always destined to be "_their_" task. Lia had already known that Ella would not abandon her and she was glad of the company of at least _one_ being that she could trust. But in regards to asking Erika for help _again_? If the _humiliating _event had _ever_ taken place, Lia knew that the girl would have refused.

Even if she had _begged _for help, the girl would only have found great enjoyment in Lia's humiliation and then promptly left, satisfied. _No_, Lia had needed to give the girl a _reason_ to stay… and now she _had_ one. The foolish, supposedly cunning creature had fallen for her act and was _exactly_ where she wanted her.

Ella stared after Erika, looking utterly perplexed and then, taking in Lia's new expression, the realisation dawned on her.

"_Oh_," she quietly exclaimed, "You're _good_," she chuckled.

"I know," Lia replied with a shrewd smile.

With an exchange of secretly knowing grins, they headed after the girl who would get them past the wall.

When Murtagh opened his eyes and gazed up at the familiar decorated ceiling, he wanted to laugh. His mouth was covered in a layer of scabs and even the smallest movement caused him pain, but he did not care – ignoring the fresh blood that oozed through the cracks in lips, he opened his mouth wide and let the harsh sound escape. It was simply too terrible _not _to be found amusing. After _all_ his efforts and _everything_ that he had endured, here he was, _again_, in the care of _Galbatorix_.

He was lying in _exactly_ the same bed, in _exactly_ the same room that he had lain in almost a year before. So familiar it felt; it was as though none of what had occurred had _ever_ come to pass… but it _had_ and he remembered _every_ second of it… every taste, smell, sight, sound and most _importantly_, he remember _her_.

The previous night was also _horribly_ clear and his memory of the way in which he had screamed caused his blood to boil. It did not matter that he had suffered a pain worse than death, _all_ that mattered was that those two bald headed bastards had been the ones to see it. They had _witnessed_ his moment of weakness and they had _caused_ it. _That_ fact was more humiliating than the act itself.

Lying there, he promised that once he had ensured Lia's safety, he would _deal_ with the vermin…_they_ would deal with them. Another painful smile crossed his lips, as he imagined Lia by his side once more and facing their foes.

Sitting up, he was pleased to feel that there was no more pain. He felt slightly weakened from the wear on his endurance, but physically, the only pain that he felt resided on his lips and on his palm. He could not yet bring himself to look upon it. If her visage was utterly gone, he had no wish to know.

Chuckling grimly, he savoured the fact that the Twins had _failed _in their task to erase his past from him. Even if he did not hold onto that which mattered to him the most, the scar on his palm would _always_ prove a reminder of what had once been there. In essence, they had changed _nothing_.

Rising to a sitting position, he glanced around the room apathetically, recognising every corner, every piece of furniture and every colour. Nothing here was new. He knew where everything was and everything would be, just as he knew that there would be a letter waiting for him on the writing desk.

Slinging his legs over the side of the bed, he walked to the table, where he found the sealed envelope with his name printed on the front in an elegant script and some new clothes draped across the back of the chair.

Lazily, he tore the envelope apart and pulled out the parchment that was folded within. There was not much to read. Only a few lines of the expected high and mighty drivel. A fancy and unnecessarily warm formal greeting, instantly followed by the promise that if he tried to escape, he would be shot on sight.

He laughed aloud at that part. If they had wanted him dead, they would have killed him a _long_ time ago. If he were no longer useful to them, they would have disposed of him after they had acquired what they needed. There was a further reason he needed to be alive which remained a mystery, but whilst it remained, he would not try and leave. It was better to remain in the home of the enemy alive and able to scheme, than die trying to escape and achieve nothing.

The next part of the letter was a polite invitation to join the King in the throne room. Murtagh wondered if he would be offered tea and some cake? Chuckling to himself, he read the last part with a twitching smile.

It seemed that the King wanted him to enter the throne room via the secret passageways. Glancing over his shoulder, Murtagh saw that the panelled wall that existed to the side of his bed had been moved a little to reveal the passageway beyond. As if he would forget such things! It was through these passageways that he had escaped.

The last few lines of the letter concerned the lavish wardrobe that had been provided for him for the remainder of his stay, which of course _all_ depended on where his _loyalties_ lay. Taking in the robes left for him, Murtagh noticed the fancy colours and the elegant trim and his gagging reflex kicked in, as he could only imagine Eragon prancing around in such clothes, if he was given half the chance.

Crumpling the letter into a ball with both hands, Murtagh threw it aside and considered the general gist of the words. He could make no attempt to escape, he was encouraged to approach the King by means of stealth and he was requested to dress for the occasion.

Conspiratorially stroking his chin, Murtagh casually turned his head around and looked down. Regardless of having his tunic stripped from him, he was wearing the same trousers that he had been captured and tortured in. The very same that he had worn throughout his journey and the very same that exposed an entire buttock. Smiling hugely, Murtagh ignored the passageway and the elegant attire and headed for the only door.

Stepping out into the brightly lit hallway, where servants and others were walking and bustling around, Murtagh grinned at them in turn and greeted each and every one with a nod and a cheerful "Good afternoon." Occasionally, he added a slight bow, wherever it was _completely_ unnecessary, as a poor excuse to bend over. He didn't need directions; he remembered the way.

As he strode onwards at a slow and comfortable pace, he felt each and every set of eyes stare at his bare, scarred torso and finally, rest on his retreating buttock. Adding an important swagger to his walk to show it off a little; he snickered to himself.

It was easy to imagining Lia's incredulous brow, if she had been able to witness his act of defiance and the laugh that would have followed_. And who says that I cannot make my own fun?_ he thought to himself merrily, as he marched forth to meet the awaiting and unsuspecting King.

In the shadow of the wall, Erika, Ella and Lia stood a fair distance from the entrance gates. Erika scrutinised the other girls and took a step back from them, assessing their appearance.

"_What?_" Ella asked self-consciously.

"_Hmmm_," Erika's brow furrowed. "We will need to do something about the both of you, _especially_ you," she threw in Lia's direction.

Lia's replying frown was short lived and replaced by an understanding nod.

"Yes…I suppose I _would_ have a stunning portrait beside the boys. But _Ella_?" she asked.

"She travelled with you, did she _not_?" Erika stated obviously.

"You _did_ all save me from Gil' Ead and I _was_ there when Durza first appeared," Ella sighed and then perked up. "Does that mean that _I_ have a picture beside the rest of you?"

The inappropriate excitement in her tone caused Lia to laugh.

"We shall _soon _find out. In the _meantime_, what _exactly_ do you propose we do?" she asked Erika, all friendless extracted from her tone.

"That _depends_…" Erika smiled dangerously. "Do you _trust_ me?"

Lia's reply came forth as a mirthless laugh and Ella fell silent, before mumbling sarcastically, "I _don't_ think we have a _choice_."

"Good," Erika clapped her hands in delight. "Then it's _settled_…Let me _see_…"

Hovering between them, Erika moved her eyes slyly from side to side, before allowing them to finally rest on Ella. Raising a hand before her, she touched the tip of her index finger to Ella's forehead and thought the words of the spell that she had in mind.

Moving to Erika's side to see the effects of whatever it was that she was doing, Lia stared at her friend intently, looking for signs of any chance. Ella stared back, confused and a little nervous. After a minute, she was bored.

She shrugged. "I don't _feel_ any different."

"You're not _supposed_ to," Erika grinned.

Lia snorted, unconvinced by whatever magic was cast.

"Well _I_ cannot see what you – _Oh_…"

Ella's form began to shimmer and change. Her hazy image no longer looked like Ella anymore. She was shorter, rotund and her hair was fairer and arranged into ringlets. The illusion would have been impressive, were in not for the fact that the _real_ Ella was clearly visible in the background.

Opening her mouth, Lia was about to state the _glaringly _obvious, when Erika exhaled sharply and shot her a dark look.

"For pity's _sake_ woman, _before_ you presume that _you_ know _everything_, could I get a word in _edgeways_?"

Stonily and without saying a word, Lia only pointed to her friend, raised two questioning palms and stared at the strange girl expectantly.

"_What_?" Ella complained, oblivious to any change whatsoever.

They ignored her.

"_Yes_, I know that _we_ can still see what she really looks like," Erika stated in a petulant tone. "But to anyone that _isn't _aware of who she _is_, she will look like _that_."

Appeased, Lia stood herself by Ella's side and waited for her own appearance to be adjusted.

"What? _What_ do I _look_ like?" Ella whined.

"_Short_, _fat _and _curly_," Erika replied curtly. "Now _move_ up, it's _her_ turn."

Sulking a little and trying to somehow see what everyone _else_ could, Ella shifted aside, leaving Lia facing Erika and an unpleasant atmosphere in the air between them.

Facing the depressing truth, Lia accepted that at _that_ moment, she was _entirely_ at her enemy's mercy. Keeping her expression smooth, she braced herself for what trickery was to come.

Erika's warm smile was the give-away. Nothing behind _that_ look could mean anything _good_. As her delicate finger rested against Lia's brow, Lia's eyes swerved to Ella; watching for any reaction that betrayed her coming physical representation. The required minute passed quickly and the magic caster stepped away.

"_Done_," Erika stated happily and gestured Ella to her side.

Ella watched Lia curiously and then, as the seconds passed, her eyes drifted lower and lower until they rested at knee level.

"_Well_…" Ella began uncomfortably. "I _don't_ think they'll have trouble _recognising_ you…"

Her carefully chosen words left an impression that was somewhat vague _and_ unsettling.

"Then _that_ is all that matters," Lia stated firmly and headed towards the gates, before anyone could divulge to her what manner of being she had become.

Erika and Ella followed behind. Ella bit down on her lower lip and fired the cruel girl beside her a reproachful look. Erika smirked, utterly unrepentant. They watched Lia reach the gates first and Ella cringed, as she watched her friend open her mouth to speak.

"Good afternoon good sirs, would you be so kind as to allow three maidens to pass through the walls and seek some food and shelter?" Lia asked as sweetly as she could.

The two guards at the gate glanced down at her legs and laughed. One of them grabbed something small and round – it looked like a _ball _of some description.

"_Awww_, he's barking like he wants to talk to us! Isn't he _lovely_?" one gushed to his companion. "I _always_ wanted a dog, but the Misses says we got enough mouths to feed _without_ a blasted mutt. It's boring as _hell_ out here, let's _play_ with it!"

"Alright," the other agreed amiably.

Lia wasn't surprised; not _really _and she discovered that the blood did _not _rush to her cheeks in embarrassment. Gratified, she smiled wickedly and gestured Erika and Ella to approach the men in her stead.

Ella, pleased with her friend's reaction, grinned, and they both turned to see Erika' s twitching eye, a sign of her aggravation, that was quickly replaced with a belittling curve of her mouth.

The guards were still trying to get the attention of the dog, when Erika stepped in front of them, demanding their full attention. Straightening up and gawking, one of them dropped the ball and the other smoothed back his hair. Erika fluttered her eyelids, Ella rolled her eyes and Lia yawned noisily.

"May we come in?" was all that she asked.

"Of course," one replied.

"Just make sure your dog doesn't cause any trouble," the other warned her, giving the animal an adoring glance.

"Well, I _can't_ promise _that_," Erika replied sadly. "The bitch _does_ have a tendency for it."

Having taken everything so far with a certain degree of grace, Lia felt her patience burn out and give way to her more… _rebellious _side. Having already made her decision, she placed a hushing finger to her lips and gave Ella an apologetic smile, before unfastening her trousers and approaching Erika. The only indication of what was to come, was her vindictive smile.

When Erika took a step forward, the guards shuffled together importantly and exchanged a reluctant look, before pulling out some parchment and pen.

"We just need your names, your purpose and how long you intend to stay," they informed her with a hint of regret.

"But of _course_," Erika nodded. "I am Maria and this is my sister Violet and this is – _ugh_!"

"Oh _dear_." The guard that had dropped the ball muffled a laugh with the back of his hand.

To their eyes, it simply looked as though the pet dog was urinating on her master's leg.

Stunned, Erika stared down in absolute horror, at the warrior that had her trousers dropped to her ankles and was proceeding to pass water on her perfectly crafted and rather expensive shoe.

"_Oh_ I'm _sorry_!" Lia said cheerfully. "Are dogs not _supposed_ to do that?"

Furiously, Erika drew her leg back to kick at the girl. _That _much, she could afford to do in the presence of bystanders. Amusedly, Lia watched the leg draw back and when it came flying towards her, she simply grabbed it and pulled it hard, bringing the beautiful girl crashing down on her rear.

The guards, who only saw the girl aim a kick at the dog laughed and then fell silent, as they watched the girl appear to slip and fall on nothing. Courteously, they moved forward to help her up.

Suppressing a laugh, Lia stepped aside, yanked up and fastened her trousers. Ella moved forward and pressed her lips together, hiding her smile.

Erika allowed the guards to help her up and kept her cool. As long as she only simmered on the _inside_, _that_ was all that mattered. She could not give her reactions away; it was the _only_ way that she could maintain the upper hand.

So, it had turned into a _game_, had it? Some form of competition that involved humiliating, outwitting and outmatching the other? The type of game where there appeared to be no limits, no conscience and no requirement for fair play? _These_ were the kinds of rules that Erika liked.

Feeling the dampness in her shoe, she grimaced inwardly and then, despite her revulsion, she found herself feeling elated. Indeed, there _would_ be fun times ahead.

As they walked past the guards, through the gates, Lia took Ella's former place by Erika's side and although they did not look at one another, they were both smiling. Ella walked in Lia's shadow, taking in the two girls' very similar and very frighteningly mischievous expressions, with a building sense of unease.

From the corner of her mouth, Erika spoke to her opponent.

"This _isn't_ over you know," she stated conversationally.

Lia smirked. "_Good_."

For the briefest moment, the two girls turned to each other and in spite of their mutual dislike, a competitive charge sparked between them, which caused them to smile _wider_. Enemies or no, it seemed that they shared this one _other_ thing in common, a need to cause _trouble_.

Raising her eyes to the heavens, Ella prayed that this was the beginning of some form of alliance. It was either _that_, or the beginning of something very, _very _bad.

Upon entering the throne room, Murtagh only had eyes for the large table that lay in the centre of the room. Surrounding it were eight beautifully crafted chairs, adorned with gemstones of every kind.

Pulling one out for himself, he placed his semi-bare derriere upon it and propped his feet up on the table's finely polished surface. After wriggling his toes and folding his arms behind his head, he turned to face the King, as if he had just noticed that he was there.

"Your Majesty," he smiled wryly. "You _called_?"

Galbatorix sat perfectly still, his expression was entertained. The Twins stood either side of the throne, their faces thunderous, as they observed their victim's unacceptable nonchalance.

"Murtagh, Murtagh, _Murtagh_…what _are_ we going to _do_ with you?" Galbatorix mused, caressing the hilt of his broadsword.

Murtagh grinned.

"You _could_ settle for a good old fashioned arse spanking and send me on my _way_?" he suggested with a chuckle.

The King grinned back, but his eyes shone with malice.

"Now, _now_ Murtagh, what _has _happened to your _manners_? You used to be such an _obedient_ boy and then you went and ruined it all by running away and joining forces with the whelp!" Galbatorix gasped in mock horror.

"What can I _say_? Being _good_ is awfully _boring_, but then _again_, _you'd_ know all about _that_, _wouldn't_ you… _sire_?" Murtagh replied.

His tone, which had started off light, took a darkening turn and developed a disrespectful edge. The King noticed this and slowly, he rose from his throne.

"I _wonder_ Murtagh…have you ever stopped to wonder _why_ exactly it _is_ that I have not killed you? I have killed people for _less_ than what you have done. _Indeed_, I have had people's _tongues _cut out for speaking to me in such a way as you have just done. Have you not been curious as to _why_ you are standing here _alive_?" the King asked in his honeyed voice.

"_Hmm_," Murtagh pondered. "Is it _because_…_you_ enjoy the company of young _boys_?" he asked, the _suggestion_ behind his words was _perfectly_ clear.

Galbatorix shook his head and a slow, cruel smile spread across his lips. Murtagh forced his own smile to remain in place, but something gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Walking down the red carpet that covered the few descending steps, the King eyed Murtagh like a prize.

"You believe yourself to be brave and I _do_ believe you think yourself as rather… _funny_? Well, let me tell you something _boy_, it is _I_ who shall have the last _laugh_. For who _ever _said that I wished to keep the company of _your _unworthy presence?" he informed the boy with secretive, narrowed eyes.

Removing his legs from the table, Murtagh pushed the chair away from him and stood to face the ruler of the Empire. The King's cryptic words wiped the smile from his face and left him struggling to maintain his show of seeming impassive.

Shrugging his shoulders, Murtagh rolled his eyes. "Well then, your _highness_… _enlighten_ me. If you do not keep mefor my looks and my charm, then why _am_ I here?"

When Galbatorix stood but a foot away from him, Murtagh felt the full force of the power and magic that surrounded the King. It was cold and evil, but he showed no sign of his discomfort. He only gazed up at the King with disinterested eyes.

"It has already begun," the King smiled down upon him. "The ritual commenced this _very _morning, whilst you lay in your _ignorant_ slumber. After the sun has set on the seventh day, I _will_ have the company that I desire…"

Reaching out a cold hand, the King rested it upon Murtagh's shoulder and gazed deep into the boy's eyes…_through_ him.

"_Soon_ my friend, we _shall _be reunited," the King murmured in a seductive whisper.

Understanding dawned on Murtagh's face, but his brain would not allow it. It had been a nightmare and yet, his face paled, as he realised that he now lived in a time where nightmares often became realities.

"I will _never _work for _you_," Murtagh protested vehemently, already fearing the reply to his words.

"No, _you_ will not, but it was _never_ about _you_…" the King said with a cold laugh. "Where do people go when they _die_ Murtagh, I _wonder_?"

As the hand was removed from Murtagh's shoulder, he took a step back, brushed at his shoulder as if it were unclean.

"Straight to the fiery pits of hell, if they've had anything to do with _you_," Murtagh spat.

"_Really_? Where does that leave _you, _I wonder?" Galbatorix asked with a trace a humour.

Murtagh did not reply; he only glared. Paying the boy's words no heed; Galbatorix continued his revelation in an educational manner.

"When a person dies, their soul leaves the body and moves on…but to _where_…another plane of existence? The darkest void? No one knows, but if the soul is reluctant to leave, it can merge with another being close by at the time of death and linger in this world for a little while longer.

Morzan never had _any_ intention of dying, you see. So, at the time of your inconvenient birth, he sought to make your existence… _convenient_. Using only the darkest of magic and most forbidden of spells, he bound himself to _you_-"

"No…" Murtagh said, running his hands through his hair and then clutching his hands to his chest.

"Yes," Galbatorix continued with sparkling eyes. "The moment he died, his soul transported directly into your body, where he has remained dormant for years. He had been biding his time… waiting for the moment when you come of age…a time when, as discussed, I would bring his spirit forth and your own would be _annihilated_."

"No!" Murtagh growled, grabbing for the sword that hung by the King's side and pressing the blade against his own throat.

"He will not return. I will not allow it!"

The King guffawed.

"My dear, _stupid_ boy, did you honestly think that I have not covered every angle? Considered every stupid and defiant act that you may seek to perform? You are protected, completely and utterly _untouchable_, until the transformation is complete. You may seek to cut yourself, skewer yourself, drown or hang yourself and it will be to no avail," he said with a manic laugh.

Throwing the blade down at the King's feet, Murtagh stared down at his chest, fearing his skin was about to bubble, blister and contort, revealing the presence that lay within him.

"_Lies_…" Murtagh muttered weakly.

"Oh, I think we _both_ know that I'm telling you the _truth_. I can see it in your face, you _pathetic_ boy. You have felt it _before_, his _presence_ lurking in wait. Of course, it matters not whether you believe or no. In seven days, what _you_ think will never matter _again_. But I _am_ a _reasonable_ man…

For the next seven days, you shall receive the _best_ care, the _finest _food and a woman _every_ night, to sate any lust you may possess. I want you to leave this world feeling _comfortable_, so that my accomplice may return to find a body that is well rested, satisfied and ready for war."

Raking his fingers across his chest, Murtagh could not see nor feel any trace of their touch. When his fingers reached for his lips, they felt fully healed. His hand twitched, but he would not look down upon it in front of the King. So it was true… he _was_ protected…until it would be too _late._ And he only had seven days…seven days to do _what_? _Lia_, he thought desperately.

Consumed by his own thoughts, he started when he looked up to see that the King was sat back in his throne once more. Glaring at the man, Murtagh folded his arms.

"You may _take_ me your _Majesty_, but rest assured, I will _not_ go without a fight and you will _not _find it _that_ easy," he assured him, in a tone that rang with promise.

"On the _contrary_," the King smiled pleasantly. "I shall find it _very_ easy and _oh-_," he exclaimed, clicking his fingers.

From behind the billowing black curtain that lay behind the throne, a large black snout appeared, pushing something forward.

"What is _this_?" Galbatorix asked, with false curiosity. "It is round…large and covered in beautiful, red tendrils…Why, could this be the _last _dragon egg?"

Stepping forward, Murtagh gazed at the egg in both wonder and horror. Pointing down at it, he glared at the King and shook his head in disbelief.

"You must be _joking_," he barked a hysterical laugh.

"I am _perfectly_ serious," Galbatorix assured him.

"It will _never_ work," Murtagh stated, his manner resolute.

The King smiled. "_You_ may not be Rider material, but there _is_ a Rider _inside_ you boy and the egg _will _hatch for him or I will _make_ it."

Snorting a laugh, Murtagh eyed the egg comically and thought of all that Saphira and Eragon had gone through. He had listened to tales of their bonding, watched their relationship grow and _never_ could he imagine the magic of dragons, so sacred and old, being overridden by a _man_- no matter _how _extensive his knowledge of the dark arts was.

"_What_ a _bunch_ of _arse_!" he proclaimed.

The King's brows shot up unappreciatively.

"Well," Murtagh said, with a final glance around the room. "If that is _all_, I should very much like to retreat to my room. If I have seven days left to enjoy myself, I would sooner do it _without_ the company of those two shiny headed wrong ends of a dog," -he gestured his head toward the Twins- "And a King who thinks he's _clever_, when he's _not_. _So_, if you will _excuse_ me, I will take my _leave_."

The Twins scowled and took a threatening step forward, but Galbatorix halted them with a wave of his hand and letting his pleasant mask fall, gazed down upon Murtagh with hard, piercing eyes.

"Mark my words _Murtagh_, son of _Morzan_…I _always_ have my way," the King vowed fiercely.

Murtagh took a moment to pause and stare at the man blankly.

"With all due respect my liege…_Grow up_," he muttered, sounding aloof.

Marching past their incredulous faces, he headed towards the back curtain from which the snout had appeared, where one of the secret passageways lay.

The wish to return to his room by the way that he came had left him. Now more than ever, he needed to think and to be alone. Somehow, his time with Saphira had erased all fear of the great creature that he knew awaited him.

He felt their eyes staring after him in shock, as he pushed past the curtains and came face to face with the snarling and roaring beastly dragon. Accustomed to such behaviour, Murtagh shooed the dragon with his hands and gave the creature a stern look.

"_Do_ shut up," he growled back at the monster.

Storming past the creature, that abruptly slammed its' jaws shut, he left the chamber by means of the hole in the nearby wall, leaving the dragon staring after him, with two confused jets of smoke leaving its' nostrils.

In an abandoned alley, leading off from the hustle and bustle of the busy city streets, Erika stood with her eyes closed and her fingers rubbing small circular movements around her temples. Ella counted the bricks in the opposite wall and Lia watched the strange girl's face, as the once smooth brow began to crease in irritation.

"I don't expect you to feel what I feel, but surely even _you_ can feel it?" Erika spoke in a low voice.

Lia did not need to close her eyes or focus on the task to answer the question; she felt it as soon as they passed through the gates. The magic in this place was strong- strong enough to create static in the air.

"I can feel it," Lia confirmed.

"Feel _what_?" Ella asked dully. "The boredom threatening to _kill_ me?"

"Patience," Lia said kindly and then faced Erika once more. "How bad is it?"

"In the city, here, it isn't so bad – what you're feeling _here_ is from the _castle_; the spells protecting it are _strong_. I cannot see it, but I can _feel_ it; the power forms shapes in the back of my mind. It resembles a gigantic, translucent bubble and it protects the building and all that reside within its walls.

A spell of this magnitude requires a minimum oftwenty spell casters and the spell can _never_ be broken – the concentration required is _constant_. Bearing _that _in mind, I assume that they have at least _forty _magic bearers, who continue the chant in shifts, thus never allowing the spell to cease.

The spell will block anything attempting to breach the walls and I _mean_ anything. No human, no magic and no thought can breach the spell.

I can taste it with my mind…this spell is _old_…it has been kept up for a long time…possibly a _year_? Each chant leaves a residue that is decipherable to those that possess our talents. Galbatorix started it and now his little bastard magical helpers keep it up."

Opening her eyes, Erika swung her head from side to side and laughed callously.

"Forget him, he is but a man. There is no way of saving him. This is a lost cause…" Her words were sincere.

Lia struggled not to reach out and grab the girl, as she turned to leave. Ella cupped her hands to her face, all hope lost.

"Leaving so _soon_?" Lia asked in a cutting tone.

"Would you have me _stay_?" Erika asked sarcastically. "There is _nothing _for me here. The both of you have outlived your use and there is no pleasure to be gained in trying to accomplish the _impossible_. I am but _one_ spell caster. Guarding that _lunatic_ you so stubbornly wish to save, are too many for me to even _count_!

I fulfilled _my_ part of the deal by helping bring you here _warrior_, but now, my work here is done and I _strongly_ suggest that the both of you follow my example and _leave _this place."

"_Murtagh_…" Ella whispered.

"_Fine_," Lia said coolly. "Go look after yourself, after all, that seems to be what you do _best_. Tell me Erika, if you dropped _dead_, would _anyone_ give a rat's arse? Would anyone mourn you? _No_. And do you know _why_? It's because you're a heartless, egotistical coward."

Amused by the rant, Erika eyed Lia with a new interest.

"In _fact_," Lia continued. "You _should _leave. _No_ amount of magic is going to stop _me_ getting in there. We will find a way inside _without_ you."

"And _how_ will he recognise you when you _look_ like a _dog_?" Erika asked, smiling cruelly.

"_Do_ get over yourself," Lia sneered. "Or do you _honestly _think that _you_ are the only magic caster that we could ever find in this place? I am certain that there are _plenty_ who exist here, with powers _beyond_ yours, that shan't feel so _threatened_ by the task at hand."

"_Ha_!" Erika laughed. "You think that you would find those that oppose Galbatorix within _these_ walls?!"

"It's surprising what you _can_ find on the doorstep of your enemy," Lia countered with a confident grin. "Therefore, _please_…" she concluded, waving her hand in the general direction of the gates. "_Don't_ let _us_ keep you. Feel _more_ than free to go and drag your skinny arse somewhere nice and safe and warm; preferably far, _far_ away and leave the _fighting_ to the people that _matter_."

Turning on her heel, Erika marched to the mouth of the alley and left them staring after her. So the words that had been said were perfectly true. They changed _nothing_.

"_Wonderfu_l," Ella muttered, before starting around the corner in the opposite direction.

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder.

"Wait," Lia said, pulling her friend back into the alley.

"_Why_?" Ella asked. "She's made up her mind, it's not as if she ever intended on staying _anyway_."

"_Wait_," Lia repeated firmly.

Ella's face crumpled.

"Fine," she grumbled, leaning back against the wall.

"_Patience_," Lia reminded her again with a faint trace of a smile on her lips.

Until now, Erika had never been in danger. She could have sped, talked or manipulated her way out of any situation. But in this place, the risk was too high and it was _not_ a risk that she was willing to take. The girls would die in their attempt and she had _no_ desire to share their fate.

Rounding the corner, she focused on the gates ahead, but then several, large pieces of hanging canvass caught her eye. On each, a portrait was drawn and beneath each, a price was labelled. Hesitating, Erika slowly approached the posters and examined each picture carefully.

First and fore most, was Eragon, followed by Murtagh by his side and then, a rough sketch of Lia. Reaching out a hand, she ignored the surrounding two and placed her fingers on the lips of the centre picture with a frown. _Why_ had she allowed herself to stop and look? Cursing herself, she looked into the accusing eyes of the three faces that gazed down upon her.

What was it that caused her lower lip to jut out in annoyance? Was it the looks on their faces? Was it the individual way in which each of them irritated her? No… it was the _arrangement_. The three pictures, side by side… a combination that made _sense_. They were companions, that even when _apart_, were always thought of as a _whole_.

A stupid, unhealthy bitterness overwhelmed Erika, as she realised that there was no one that could ever be associated with her. There would never _be_ any faces that would be pictured beside hers. Annoyed by this sudden ache, she tried to dismiss it, but when she met their eyes again – they were still there, _judging_ her and mocking her with their _togetherness_.

Whether it was out of pity for them, or a need of her own, that she was not yet able to accept, Erika narrowed her eyes, sighed in exasperation and stormed back down the alleyway. The girls stood patiently waiting for her, as if her return had been expected. A smug smile tugged at the corner of Lia's mouth.

Erika pulled a disgruntled face. "Let's go find some place to eat and have a drink," she stated sourly.

"You're _staying_?" Ella breathed.

"Yes, I'm bloody _staying_," Erika barked. "And if we're planning to merrily walk to our deaths, I'd sooner do so after a hearty _meal_ and several jugs of _ale_."

"I shan't argue _there_," Lia agreed, wholeheartedly.

Ella frowned at the both of them. "Is this _really_ the time for banquets and ale?"

Lia and Erika stared at the girl and then glanced at each other.

"_Yes,_" they blurted out at the same time.

In no position to argue, Ella sighed and followed the two girls, as they headed down the streets and towards the market in the square.

Several hours had passed since his rendezvous with the King and Murtagh was still pacing back and forth across his room, growing more infuriated by the minute. Had he seriously been intent on ending his life? He remembered grabbing the sword and the _only_ thing that had mattered, was being able to somehow extract his father from his body. But had the act been _selfless_ or _selfish_?

He concluded that it was both. It was selfless, in the sense that he would have done anything, to ensure that his father would never return. A man so evil should never be allowed a second chance; it was a crime that he had ever been _conceived_. However, the act had also been selfish, because nothing would be more unbearable than having Lia see him in such a way.

What if he really _did _change? What if Morzan took him over and carried _his_ face, paraded around under _his_ skin and committed crimes in _Murtagh's_ name? Even though he would no longer exist to see her anguish, he could not bear the thought of it. It would have been better if he had died, but even _that_ option had been robbed of him.

He had seven days to make things right. Seven days, in a castle where his every movement would be monitored and there was no way of escape. Lia was too far away…whenever she arrived would be too _late_ and what if she learned what happened and _still_ tried to save him? Would Morzan _hurt_ her? Would Morzan use _these_ hands to _kill_ her? Clenching his fists, he reminded himself of his promise…he would _never_ allow it to happen.

_So _he was no Rider, _so_ he possessed _no_ magical abilities whatsoever… there _had_ to be a way to stop this ritual. If it took seven days, he still had _six_ days in which to wreak havoc. In a castle _this_ size, there would _have_ to be _somebody_ that was useful…somebody that knew somebody _else,_ that could _somehow_ give him some information to work with.

He could not allow Lia to save him; he had _no_ wish to involve her in this. This was _his _battle and if he could resolve it _before_ she arrived, _she _would be _safe _and _he_ would be free to escape. He had fled _before_; he could do it _again_. Then they could find each other and live the silly dream that they had planned, what felt like _so_ long ago.

Unbelievably, it had been less than a _week._ Less than seven days,since they had been running through the forest, laughing and being chased by an army of Kull, thinking that they were free. That morning felt like a _lifetime_ ago. _Less than seven days…_e_xactly what I have now_.

Finally, finding the courage to open up his fist, he glanced down upon the palm and saw that which he desired. It was no illusion, no trick of his mind; it was _there_. On his callused, fully healed palm, was the _only_ face that he wished to see – fiercely beautiful and showing the same determination in her eyes as his own.

The silvery lines faintly glowed and he felt something. It was not _Lia_… it could only be described as…_magical_. _Somehow_, the magic that was imprinted on him by the dragon was _resurfacing_ once more and his hand began to tingle and grow warm.

Had it been caused by the protection spell that had been cast upon him? He did not know; but if that was the case… then Galbatorix's plan had _sorely_ backfired. Murtagh could feel it- something was happening _inside_ of him and whatever it was; it had _nothing_ to do with Morzan The Forsworn. This something was definitely on the side of _good_. Grinning down at her image, he traced a finger across the line of her lips.

"I _will _not fail you," he swore, pressing his palm to his chest.

Two loud wraps at the door disturbed his peace and he watched, as a clearly ordinary girl, who had been stuffed into an elaborate dress, was shoved inside his room. When the door slammed shut, they stared at each other cautiously.

Appetites sated, the three girls headed towards the nearest Inn. Dining had not been a difficult task; Erika had only had to politely request food and it was given to her. After eating in a secluded spot, they sought to quench their thirst and gather information. Before entering through the swinging double doors, Erika paused and spoke to Lia without looking at her.

"This whole _dog_ business, it _is_ only an illusion. Be careful who you bump into and _try_ to stay out of everyone's way."

"I shall do my best," Lia promised, with innocent eyes, that caused Erika to groan inwardly and Ella to hope against hope.

Entering the Inn, they wove their way through the small groupings of people and took up places by the bar. Erika and Ella seated themselves directly before the barman and smiled up at him. Lia stood, leaning with one elbow propped up against the counter, eyeing one man's unattended drink, as he sat unknowingly to her right, distracted by a busty whore. Erika was visibly seated on his other side.

Sneakily, when no one was looking, she chugged the contents down. If her companions expected her to drink from the water dish that had been put on the ground by her _feet_, they were _sadly_ mistaken.

When the man reached for his jug and brought it to his lips, it was empty. Shaking it upside down a few times, he looked straight through Lia and eyed Erika furtive contempt. Grinning, Lia stood herself in the gap in the stools between the two girls.

The barman was clearly admiring them, he took more time than necessary to clean the same glass with a soiled rag and when he smiled, he showed a small row of black teeth. Ella suppressed a shudder, but Erika leaned forward across her jug and beckoned him over with her finger.

All too willingly, the man came forward and leaned an elbow on the side of the bar. He lowered his face, until it was uncomfortably close to hers.

"Can I help you?" the man asked in a husky voice.

"I believe you _can_," Erika beamed and then lowered her voice. "Tell me, _where _could I possibly find someone who knows everything?"

"Everything?" he asked for clarification.

"_Everything_," she confirmed with a wink.

"That depends on the type of _everything_ you want to know. There are a lot of the King's spies walking around, disguised as normal folk. That _everything_ you seek may very well end up with you swinging from the _gallows_."

"_That_, my good sir, is _no _concern of yours. Now, _tell_ me, where can I find such a person that holds the knowledge I require."

"There is _one_ that springs to mind," he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin in worry. "But she is a _strange _one and you _don't _want to go to her, not unless you really, _really_ have to."

"_Where_ can I find her?" Erika pressed.

"Go past the Market Square, towards the poor quarter. On the edge of the street, you will find the apothecary. It's his wife. Just knock and ask for Hepzibah."

Nodding her thanks, Erika glanced at Ella and cocked her head towards the door. The barman quickly grabbed her hand and Erika stared down at the offending, grubby fingers that dug into the sleeve of her dress and finally to the two warning eyes that burned into hers.

"You want to be _careful_ lass. Be careful whom you talk to and to whom you address your questions. For all _you _know, I could have been a spy," he muttered under his foul breath.

"_Are_ you?" Erika asked, narrowing her eyes.

"No," he replied tonelessly, under the influence of her power.

"Then I _thank_ you for your time," she beamed, before dragging her hand away and patting her thighs for the dog to follow.

Rolling her eyes, Lia followed them back outside the building.

"Maybe we _should _be careful," Ella suggested sensibly. "_He_ seemed to find _something_ about that Hepzibah rather _frightening_."

Lia chuckled and Erika smirked.

"If the poor man could have seen what _we_ are capable of, he probably would have shat _boulders_. This woman is probably nothing more than some old _wench_ that created a foul reputation to _protect_ herself. But _still_, if she knows something _useful_, it's worth tracking her down."

As they quickened their pace, Lia thought about the name of the woman. _Hepzibah._ Why did that name mean something to her, she wondered. Putting the thought aside, she satisfied herself with the knowledge that she would soon find out.

When, after several minutes, neither of them had said a word. Murtagh raised a mildly irritated brow.

"_Yes_?" he prompted.

The girl dipped her head and curtseyed. A gesture that caused his brow to rise dramatically higher.

"I have been sent to you my Lord," she said in a small and humble voice.

At the mention of the word "_Lord_," Murtagh nearly choked.

"_Lord_?" he spluttered. "I can _assure_ that I am _no_ Lord."

"My apologies My Lord," she mumbled back at him, with downcast eyes.

"_Because_?" he asked, his patience waning.

"Because what my Lord?" she asked, quietly.

Raising his eyes to the heavens, he wished that for _once_, he would not be surrounded by such _simpletons_.

"You were sent _because_…?" he said, enunciating each syllable.

The girl turned a bright shade of red under his condescending eyes.

"For your pleasure My Lord," she whispered.

Waving a hand to the door, Murtagh gestured her away.

"Then you can _leave_," he stated firmly.

The girl's head shot up and her eyes were wild. Staggering forward, she fell to her knees at his feet, clasped her hands together and lowered her head.

"_Please_ My Lord, _please_!" she begged him. "You _must_ take me, you simply _must_!"

"_No_," he replied; his tone final and then a humorous edge crept into his voice. "You _could_ say that _I_ am a _married _man."

"_Please_ My Lord. If I do not satisfy you, they will _punish_ me!"

"_Why_?" he demanded. "Why should they punish you, when it is not a service that I require?"

"If you do _not_ bed me, they will assume that I am _useless_ My Lord and _then-_" she began to shiver "-they will beat me… or _worse_."

Frowning, Murtagh grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. Holding her at a safe distance, he stared into her frightened eyes. The fear there was genuine.

"Can you not _lie_?" he asked, disbelief marring his tone.

"If only I _could_ My Lord," she sniffed. "They… _monitor_ our progress, as it were."

"_How_?" he asked darkly.

Leaning forward, she spoke in a hushed tone. "They _listen_."

"_Ah_," he said, with a slow calculating smile. "And when is it that we are to begin?" he asked with mock solemnity.

"_Now_ sir," she sighed in relief and began tugging at the back of her dress.

"_Keep _your clothes _on_!" Murtagh hissed.

"Oh," she nodded. "Of _course_," she smiled.

Turning around and bending over, she began to hoist up the back of her dress.

"_No_, that is _not _what I meant," Murtagh complained.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her upright once more. She gave him a puzzled look, before her eyes nervously flickered to the door. Shaking her slightly to regain her attention, he fixed her with a steely stare.

"If I help _you_, will you help _me_?" he asked in earnest.

"_Yes_," she promised fervently.

All seriousness dropped from his face and a playful smile spread across his lips.

"Then we have an accord…_So_…are you ready to make some _noise_?" he asked, moving his eyes suggestively to the bed.

When her eyes showed no understanding whatsoever, Murtagh's smile only broadened.

Opening the door to the apothecary, Erika entered first, followed by Ella, who held the door open for Lia to pass through. The place reeked of pungent herbs; that hung from the various shelves. An array of multicoloured bottles brought life to the otherwise dull interior.

Behind a large counter, sat a small, mousy looking middle aged man with a vacant expression. Staring straight ahead, he did not notice the three customers, despite the bell that had rung upon their entrance. Walking up the counter, Erika and Ella stood directly in front of him and still, he did not appear to see them at all.

"Good evening sir, we were wondering if we could possibly speak to your wife?" Ella asked politely.

No reply.

"_Sir_?" Erika asked, waving an irritated hand in front of his face.

Still no reply.

Lia was studying some nearby herbs, when she heard bustling from behind a nearby closed door. The door banged open and a handsome woman emerged, with her arms full of dried twigs. All heads turned towards her, including that of the man, but the woman saw no one else except Lia.

"_You_!" she cried out with wide eyes, before emptying her hands and slamming her hands on her hips.

"_You_ certainly took your bloody time!" she muttered in disapproval.

Thrown, Lia shrugged to the others and decided to address the more obvious problem.

"You can _see _me?" Lia asked with a frown.

"Well of _course_ I can see you. It takes more that one small, shoddy _amateur_ enchantment to manipulate _my_ eyesight," she scoffed.

Lia's lips twitched and she refrained from glimpsing the reaction on Erika's face.

"And _who_ are _they_?" she demanded, scrutinising the remaining two girls.

"My…_acquaintances_," Lia replied.

Hepzibah's husband continued to stare at her.

"Not very _bright_, _is_ he?" Erika commented rudely.

"_Trust _me girl, I didn't pick him for his _brains_," she assured her, with a sardonic smile.

The man's brow suddenly creased and he raised an accusing finger and opened his mouth as if he were about to speak.

"_Goodnight _Albert," Hepzibah stated tersely.

With no warning, the man's head lolled forward and by the time his cheek was pressed against the wooden surface, he was snoring loudly. All three girls glanced from him, to the woman that stood before them.

"I _suppose _you had _all _better follow me," she grumbled, turning around and heading back through the door from whence she came.

The warrior, the strange girl and the former thief remained stagnant for a few moments.

"Is there _something _you would like to _share _with us?" Erika asked in a petulant tone.

"When I know what that something is, I will be sure to inform you," Lia replied distractedly, as her feet began to move her through the door.

Ella watched, as Lia's form began to shimmer and Erika's charm dissolved into nothing. Muttering under her breath, Erika fired Ella a quick assessing glance, glared at what she saw and then stormed after the warrior girl. Ella gave the sleeping man one last look and then followed them through the back door, into the darkness beyond.

Two men stopped outside Murtagh's room and pressed their ears against the door. Their assigned duty had been a simple one; they were to ensure that their guest was well looked after and that the services offered to him were _satisfactory_.

In all honesty, there was no need for them to even _approach_ the door. The sounds of the occupant's antics were heard from halfway down the hall. Servants passed the room with faces flushed and some even dared to laugh aloud.

The pleasurable groans and sighs were loud and clear, as was the unmistakable sound of the bed's headboard slamming hard and repeatedly against the wall. Not wanting to seem perverse, the men cleared their throats importantly and left to report that apparently, his Majesty's guest was _more_ than satisfied.

After twenty minutes of jumping up and down on the large bed and moaning and shouting until their throats felt dry, Murtagh and the whore collapsed on the bed in a fit of laughter. Extending a hand for her to shake, she shook it gingerly.

"_Very_ convincing," he laughed.

"_I'll _say," she agreed with a timid smile.

Moving himself to the very edge of the bed, Murtagh sat up and gave her a significant look.

"And _now_, it is time to fulfil _your_ part of the bargain…" he reminded her.

"Of course My Lord," she responded.

Slipping off the edge of the bed, she stood facing him with her head bowed low and her hands clasped behind her back in a servile manner. Giving her an odd look, he rose to his feet and walked around the front of the bed until he was directly in front of her. Dropping into a crouch, he looked up at her hidden face.

"What is your name?" he asked.

She blinked down at him.

"Whore," she replied, giving him an equally odd look.

"_Really_? _That's _your name? And I thought _my _parents were _cruel_!" he joked.

He understood her, of course. Whores that visited the castle _had_ no names; _that _much he remembered. As her face reddened, he deliberated and when he spoke, his voice was kinder.

"Let me strike _another_ deal with you Mistress _Whore_. If _you_ call me Murtagh, then _I_ shall call you…" he allowed his voice to trail, inviting her to complete the sentence.

"Scarlet," she whispered uncomfortably.

"Well _Scarlet_, here is what I want _you_ to do for _me_," he began, as he presented her with his marked palm. "Look at this face and look hard… can you remember it?"

Scarlet gazed down upon the face in wonder and nodded slowly. Somewhere behind the awe, Murtagh did not miss the glimmer of recognition or the spark of hope that entered the girl's eyes

"Very _good_," he continued, in a careful tone. "I want you to keep your eyes open for me and if you ever _see_ her…you _tell_ her that I said _not_ to come. Can you remember that?"

Even as he said the words, he found his head tilting to one side and felt the corner of his mouth pull upwards. Lia would _never_ obey such a request, but _still_…

The girl nodded once more, this time a little too eagerly and after another curtsey, she hurried for the door. Murtagh watched and waited until her hand rested on the doorknob.

"And _Scarlet_…" he said in a casual voice, stopping her in her tracks.

With a frozen smile, she reluctantly turned her head.

"Yes My Lord?" she asked as politely as she could.

Advancing towards her, he stopped when he was towering over her and when his eyes locked onto hers, his lip curled into a threatening sneer.

"If _you _hand her over, like the treacherous _whore_ you no doubt _are_… If she is _ever_ captured and I can link it back to _you_; I _promise_ you that I _will_ personally hunt you down and _cut _out your beating _heart_."

Nodding fiercely, the girl scurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Smiling bitterly, Murtagh listened to the sound of her feet slamming hard against the stone as she ran away.

"_Sit!_" Hepzibah ordered.

After descending an impossibly long flight of stairs, the three unlikely and somewhat reluctant travel companions, found themselves in a cavernous, underground chamber, brightly lit by a roaring fire in the far corner. Erika's head tossed and turned irritably, as she searched for a seat of some description. Lia and Ella wordlessly sat themselves cross-legged upon the floor.

When Hepzibah perched her behind on the only small stool, Erika wrinkled her nose in distaste and sat on the soiled ground. She was yet unaccustomed to settling for anything _less_ than what she desired.

Ignoring the other girls, the woman propped her elbow up on one knee and rested her chin in her palm, as she looked down upon Lia through narrowed eyes.

"_Talk_," she insisted, after a defeated sigh.

Scrunching her eyes, Lia tried to place the woman before her. There was _still_ no identifying her.

"How did you know I would come?" she asked slowly.

"I am cursed with the _sight_, or _whatever _it is you wish to call it. You have been popping in and out of my head for several months now. I didn't have much to go on, not that I _cared_. I just saw you coming to me and asking for something.

Your face just kept leaping into the back of my mind at the most _difficult_ times," she grumbled. "I can't _tell _you how _annoying _it became! And I found myself simply _begging_ for you to show up, _just_ so you could bugger off out of my head!"

Lia's lips became a thin line.

"I apologise for any _inconvenience_ caused," she spoke the words dryly.

The woman seemed oblivious to her manner and began to look behind them all, towards the stairwell. Her face puckered in frustration.

"Well I _suppose_ you should go and get him. There is no need for him to lurk outside of wherever it is that you left him. This concerns _him_ too, so one of you _may_ as well bring him down here," she muttered, her tone bored.

"_Who_?" Ella asked, confused.

"The _boy_, of course," Hepzibah said obviously. "The one that is _always_ with you," she added, throwing a glance to Lia. "Your face was the _prominent _one I saw, there is _no _doubt about _that_. But _he_ was _always_ there with you, _even_ if he was only in the background. So, I imagine that _he_ also has _something_ to do with these visions I have been _plagued_ with."

"He _does_," Lia acceded. "We need _your _help to _find_ him."

Hepzibah stopped glancing over their heads and stared at them curiously, one by one, before folding her arms and cocking an interested head to the side.

"I'm _listening_…" she prompted, but quickly added. "But _don't_ get your hopes up. Whether I help you or not depends on what I _hear_… and whether I am in a generous _mood_."

Erika made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat and Ella eyed Lia worriedly, hoping that whatever she said would be convincing enough.

"I know that he is here, in Uru' Baen. The spell that we cast to bring us here confirms _that_ much. He must be in the Castle." Lia's tone exuded confidence.

For no apparent reason, Hepzibah laughed, covered her face with her hands and then proceeded to giggle to herself. Lia expression hardened, unable to see where _any_ humour could be found in what she had said.

"I can _assure_ you that there is _nothing_ entertaining to be found in the knowledge of his current whereabouts," Lia said, in a tone _darker_ than her expression.

Regaining her composure, Hepzibah raised a conversation-halting palm and gazed down upon Lia with a new intensity.

"As I understand it, there are only a _few _who know of such a spell and to disclose it to another would have been both incredibly stupid and also rather desperate. So, bearing _that_ in mind, how _is _my dear sister _faring _these days?" the lady asked offhandedly.

Baffled, Erika and Ella's faces remained blank. However, in contradiction to their reaction, Lia's eyes widened and then, slowly, a smile of blissful understanding spread across her face.

"_Angela_," she breathed.

"_Yes_," Hepzibah said with a rueful smile. "She _likes_ to pretend that I don't _exist_."

Lia's eyes lit up, as she remembered _what_ had been familiar about the woman. She had never met her, but she _had _heard her _name_.

"She mentioned you once," Lia informed her in a distant voice, before hesitating. "Just the _once_… It was during my brief time in her company. She said that she had never met anyone with such a natural knack for identifying herbs, with the exception of _you_."

"Well, _well_," Hepzibah mused. "You _must_ be good, if you caused _my_ name to tumble from her lips. And I suppose by some act of great _coincidence_, my beloved sister is also involved in something that occurred _before_ she bestowed upon you this convenient spell?"

Lia stopped and thought and realised that indeed, the woman was right. Had she not stolen the Ra'zac saliva from Angela? Had it also not been easier than she could have hoped?

"Yes," she confessed with a hint of mistrust.

Hepzibah laughed again and ran her fingers through her long, fair hair. Lia noticed that unlike her sister, she appeared younger, more attractive and her brow carried fewer lines.

"_Typical_!" Hepzibah muttered, although she seemed more entertained than annoyed. "That was always _her _way. Always so bloody _cryptic_ and so irritatingly _sneaky_ about things.

It wouldn't kill her just to _tell _someone outright what she has seen. But _nooo_, she _has_ to make it all seem accidental and plan things out so that it seems like fate! A waste of effort if you ask me! If someone has a destiny, why leave him or her in the dark? Why not _tell_ them! _Interfering_ she calls it. _Bah_!" she scoffed.

"Then _you _tell me," Lia pressed, leaning forward in anticipation.

"My _dear _girl, if I knew _that_, I would have told you and sent you all on your merry way. I don't have a _clue_, but I am guessing that it _obviously_ involves the young man and this _rescue _attempt.

_Hmmm_? I wonder if she _knew_ that you would come to me? Would it drive her completely _insane_ if I _didn't _help you at all?" she pondered the question with a twisted smile.

"This isn't about Angela, this is about _me_," Lia argued.

"_Please_ help us," Ella asked softly.

Both Lia and Ella stared at Erika pointedly, until she was forced to release a bored sigh.

"_Pretty_ please?" she said with a mocking ringing of her joined hands.

A rebellious gleam appeared in Hepzibah's eyes, as she straightened herself up and grinned wickedly.

"Then again, think how angry she will be if the sister that she disowned played some part in something that would change the Empire. Something that she didn't foresee, something that _she_ simply would have _loved_ to play a part in and _I_ got there _first_. Not that I care, by the way," she added, just in case her listeners interpreted her words in the wrong way. "Live or die, your fates are _no_ concern of mine. But vengeance _is _sweet…"

Erika opened her mouth to make an unruly comment of some sort. Raising a silencing hand, Lia watched the woman's calculating face slip several notches down to a decided smile.

"Your decision?" Lia asked calmly.

Hepzibah extended a hand. "You have my aid."

Struck by a curious idea, Lia smiled inwardly. After gripping the woman's smooth hand, she shuffled closer, whilst the others remained where they were.

"How do you propose we enter the castle?" Lia asked excitedly.

With a curious smile, the woman glanced up through the ceiling, in what Lia imagined was the general direction of the sinister building that they planned to impregnate.

"You have chosen a _peculiar _time to arrive and ask me this girl. Strange things are going on in that castle, strange things _indeed_. The King likes to _think_ that his magic casters are the best and don't get me wrong, they are very, _very_ good. But the good King doesn't know about people such as the likes of _me, _that dwell right at his _feet_.

He may have his wonderful home protected by his little blanket of safety, but even though we can't get _through_ it in any way, we can still _feel_ things beyond. He is up to something and that _something,_ is something that _none_ of you should wish to be anywhere _near_," she warned them.

The warning was issued in a light tone, as if the woman already knew that whatever it was, would not affect their decision in the least.

"What _is_ going on in there?" Ella asked, shuffling closer to Lia's side.

"An ancient spell is being cast…a _very_ dangerous one. The ingredients required and the casting itself is a constant and _extremely_ unpleasant process. Let us just say that those who _cast_ it; are nothing other than the _purest_ of evil and as for the items required? … Well…you really _don't _want to know. Either way, it is some form of resurrection spell."

"A resurrection spell?" Lia's brow creased with concern for the unknown. "Your sister refused to perform one."

"And I should _bloody_ well think so _too_!" Hepzibah said in a harsh voice. "Even _I_ wouldn't perform such a monstrous charm and _trust _me girl, I've crossed the line _many_ a time. Things that are dead should _stay_ dead…but _apparently_, the King thinks _otherwise_. _Hmmm_…and you say that your young man is in the castle?"

"Yes," Lia stated grimly.

"How long has he _been_ there?" the woman enquired with a thoughtful pursing of her lips.

"Almost two days, perhaps _less_," Lia answered, not liking the sudden look of understanding in Hepzibah's expression.

"Coincidence or not? That was round about when I felt the beginnings of the spell. I _wonder_…who exactly _is_ this young man that is so important to you?"

Leaning forward and staring deep into Lia's eyes, Lia had the distinct impression that the woman was trying to sift the information straight from her mind. It was no use of course. Lia's wall was up and it appeared that she was immune to whatever it was that the woman was trying to achieve.

"_Come_ now! Have you not seen our family _portrait_?" she asked, her tone blatantly mocking.

With closed eyes, Hepzibah's face fell and then she nodded, opening her eyes once more. A new recognition fell into place when they landed on Lia, but it was not a comforting one.

"I should have _known_," she grumbled. "Friends of the _Rider_! This is the _last_ thing I need," she huffed in annoyance.

"You have _already_ agreed to help us," Lia reminded her, with an exquisite smile.

Hepzibah smiled back with equal brilliance.

"_I _can _change_ my mind," she informed her in a superior tone.

Lia began to chuckle, causing her companions to look at her strangely and the woman's smile to falter.

"_Actually_…" Lia said between laughs. "You _can't_."

"_Enough_ of this," Erika snapped, rising to her feet abruptly. "Let us leave this _wench_."

"_Erika_!" Ella hissed, casting the woman a nervous glance.

The apothecary's wife paid their words or actions no heed, as her attention was firmly focused on the laughing girl before her.

"Of _course_ I can!" she snapped. "I _re_-"

All of a sudden, it was as though something closed off her voice and froze her lips. Glaring down at her mouth, Hepzibah transferred her glare to Lia and attempted to leave her seat.

No matter how hard her fingers gripped the edges of the stool and attempted to lift her weight, she was unable to move. Furiously, her nostrils flared and her eyes began to blacken.

Suddenly frightened, Ella went to grab for Lia, but Erika held her fast and shook her head, watching the two of them curiously. Lia stopped laughing, rose to her feet and began to pace around the woman, who was now frozen in place.

"_Surprised_?" Lia asked with a derisive smile. "If you're wondering what it is… well… in all essence… it is _commitment_. I've learned a few things on my travels and one of them was this _useful _little spell. I have never felt the urge to use it. In all honestly, I _enjoy_ working hard to gain people's loyalty…"

Stopping, she stood behind the woman and bent her head, so that it was at ear level.

"But if _you_ think that I am going to play _nicely_ and _waste _my time on the likes of _you_, I can _assure _you that I will _not_," she spat down at her, before pacing around her once more.

Attempting to wriggle free of whatever held her, Hepzibah groaned against the invisible force.

"Don't bother," Lia said offhandedly. "The words were _all _in the ancient tongue and you are now bound to help me, _until_ my mission is complete. If at any moment you _refuse_ to help, you will freeze as you have now. And _this_ is only the _beginning_…"

After seating herself back on the ground, Lia smiled at the glaring woman warmly, but her tone was laced with malice.

"The spell was designed to keep those that are _faithful_ alive. If you _continue_ to refuse me, _no_ magic and _no_ person will save you. The spell will weaken you and you _will_ die and it will _not _be spread over _days_ or _weeks_. It is only a matter of _hours_…

Can you feel it _already_… the _drain_? How is your _breathing_ Hepzibah? Does the _air _seem a little _thin_? _Tell_ me, have you ever seen a drowning man? _I've_ been told that it feels and looks _very_ much the same…you just die a little… _drier_."

Horrified, Ella stared at her mentor and wondered what lengths she would go to, to save her love. Erika's expression was impassive, but her fingers gripped Ella's arm hard. Hepzibah's eyes widened in fear and then slowly, as she resigned herself to her decision, her lips began to move and she found the she could stand. Turning her back them with a heaving chest, she spoke over her shoulder.

"I underestimated you girl. _Clearly_, you are _not_ as incapable as you _look_," she stated as calmly as she could, between deep breaths.

"_Clearly_," Lia agreed, before resuming their conversation as if nothing had happened. "_Now_, _tell_ me about the castle."

"Even _with_ this _commitment_, _I_ am _not_ the one to help you gain entrance. My power is strong, but _no_ match for _The_ _Shield_. Members of this collective, maintain his majesty's protection. One being is no match for them all…_but_…there is _someone_," she said, after a contemplating pause.

"_Who_?" Lia demanded.

"Nobody knows his name, but I can tell you where you will find him. I can tell you the hour and the place, but _how_ you get him to help you is _entirely _down to _you_. You could use this pleasant spell you so _kindly _blessed upon me, but I sincerely _doubt_ that he will give you the chance.

He is not a man to be trifled with. If you _can_ get him to talk, it will be a miracle, but something tells me that you may know _something_ that will make him listen. Whether you can hold his attention long enough for him not to _kill _you is another matter, but you at least have _some_ advantage.

There is no more help that I can offer you at the moment. If by some luck you acquire the information that you need, return here and we will move to phase two."

"And what would be phase two?" Erika asked, her tone aloof.

"Why don't you complete phase one and _then_ you will find out?" Hepzibah stated wryly.

"Where do we find him?" Lia asked, rising to her feet once more.

"The Tavern near the castle, more commonly referred to as the _Whore House_. When the sun sets, you will find him in the largest available room, waiting to be serviced. There, he will stay for an hour and then he will be gone."

An important question sprang to Lia's mind. "How will we recognise him?"

At that, Hepzibah turned and gave her a sly glance.

"Oh, you _will_," she assured her, with a devious wink and then her face turned stony. "Well, _there_ you have it. I did what you asked and I'll be here if you survive. But I suppose there is _one_ thing I _could _do for you now" she said, clapping her hands.

Waiting for something interesting to happen, Lia glanced around impatiently. It was Erika's "_Humph_" and Ella's smile that alerted her to the fact that whatever it was, it affected _her_.

"How do I look?" she asked her friend.

"You look the _same_, just blonde and your hair has a nice wave to it," Ella replied, admiringly.

"It's in _your_ hands now; the _charm_ that is. Just will it on and off," Hepzibah informed her blithely.

Nodding her thanks, Lia turned and gestured the others to ascend the stairs. Erika didn't give the woman a backward glance; Ella eyed her warily and followed. Just as Lia placed a foot on the stairs, Hepzibah's spoke in a cruel voice.

"Don't be _too _careful, _will _you," the bitter woman muttered darkly.

"Oh!" Lia exclaimed joyfully. "There was one _small_ detail that I neglected to mention. If _we_ die, then _you _die too. _So_, you _may_ want to wish us good luck?" she suggested with a winning smile.

"_Good luck_," Hepzibah spluttered and then stormed away.

Grinning, Lia followed the others back up to the world above.

Wandering through the dark passageways with but the smallest candlelight, Murtagh decided to make the most of his time and reacquainted himself with his surroundings. Before he could attempt anything, he needed to create a mental map of the castle and in doing do, he could assess any changes that had been made.

From what he remembered, the secret passageways led to various rooms and areas within the castle, from top to bottom, in a large circle. He could make his way from one entrance to his room and find his way back in through the other, which lay behind the full-length mirror, beside the dresser table.

The outing, which he had anticipated to last several hours, ended in less than two. His aim had been to stop and check every door that led off the passageway. The first twenty or so on each floor contained occupants and servants busy at work. The following twenty after were empty and then, at exactly the same point, he was presented with a brick wall. The tunnels had been blocked.

Making a mental note of his current location, Murtagh returned to his room and tried the other passages and found that although they seemed to go on for longer, he eventually encountered a wall.

Deep in thought, he made it back inside his room as the candle burned out and saw that a meal had been left for him on a silver platter. Eyeing the contents wistfully, he inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the roasted meat, the fine selection of vegetables and the goblet of wine that had all been beautiful arranged for him.

Picking up the tray, he opened one of the large windows and tipped the contents over the edge and then threw himself upon the bed. Ignoring the hunger that gnawed at his stomach, he glared up at the ceiling. His insides would just _have_ to get used to it. He would take _no_ risks in eating or drinking _anything_ that was offered to him. _No_ one could be trusted.

Casting his thoughts back to the tunnels, he closed his eyes and pictured the inside of the castle and attempted to figure out _what_ lay beyond the blocked walls. Obviously, they had been blocked for a reason and whatever it was, he intended to find out.

When he tried to imagine what lay in the halls beyond the restricted areas, he could think of nothing of any significance. As far as he was aware, there had only been more chambers. There were no rooms of importance or any area worth protecting.

What then was the purpose of the walls? He pictured the confined area and followed the space down each floor, until finally, he hit the ground…but there _was_ something below the ground, _wasn't _there? A place that lay directly _underneath_ the forbidden circle… the _dungeons_. He needed to be sure. As a guest, he had free reign to wander the grounds, so could he not approach the place and at least see how well it was guarded? It was a start.

Hopping to his feet, he decided to take the tunnels to the kitchen and make his way from there. If he took his _own_ food, there would be less of a risk of whatever it was, that they were no doubt seeking to achieve. Picking up a silver letter opener that lay on the desk, he slipped it inside his pocket and disappeared behind the mirror.

"_I_ spy with _my_ little eye, _something_ beginning _with_…_W_," Erika continued the game, that was now becoming _old_.

Glancing at the long line of mind wiped _whores_ who stood lounging around the lobby, Ella threw the girl a sour look.

"_Stop_… alright? _Please_!" she pled.

"It's not _my_ fault you are so frighteningly _boring_, that I need to play these _abysmal _games, to keep myself occupied," Erika grumbled.

"Oh _wait_!" Ella said suddenly, with false cheer. "_I_ have one. _I_ spy with _my_ little eye, _something_ beginning _with_…_T_!"

After a brief glance around the room, Erika mouth pulled down at the corners in disapproval.

"There is _nothing _beginning with the letter _T_," she objected.

"Try… _The annoying bitch standing next to me_," Ella corrected her, with a wide smirk.

"_Hilarious_," Erika muttered and stared at the front door.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Ella anxiously glancing at the furthest door down the narrow hallway.

Rolling her eyes, Erika sighed. "_You _worry like a _little _old _woman_."

"Just because _you_ don't care what happens to her doesn't mean that _I_ don't," Ella countered angrily.

Erika only shrugged her indifference.

"That nasty old hag told her that _she_ was the one that had to speak with him," she reminded her.

Ella chewed on her lower lip. "So remind me, what are _we_ doing, whilst she tries not to let _him _kill her?"

"We wait for him to come in, then, as soon as he gets here, we send all these _charming_ ladies _away_ and _I _cast a spell on the doors."

"Will it keep him _in_?" Ella asked dubiously.

"Not for _long_," Erika admitted. "But it _should_ buy her enough time to make an _impression_."

Glancing sideways at the girl, Ella asked the inevitable. "And if she _doesn't_?"

Erika grinned. "_That_ is what _running _is for."

"We _leave _her?!" Ella gasped.

Erika paused dramatically.

"You're absolutely _right_," she nodded and poked a finger in the girl's chest. "_You _stay and _I'll_ bugger off. Then _everyone_ will be happy," she beamed. "Well, apart from _you_ two, because in all likeliness, you'll both be a bit _dead_."

"_Erika_," Ella muttered petulantly.

"Yes?" Erika replied politely.

"Why _are_ you here? I mean, _apart_ from your obvious need to _piss_ Lia off to _breaking_ point and the quest to nab her man. _Seriously_, what the hell have _you _go to stay for?" she asked through her teeth.

"You say that like it's a _bad_ thing," Erika sniffed unappreciatively. "I think they are two perfectly _good _reasons."

"Keep _dreaming_," Ella snorted.

Exchanging scornful glances, the girls looked away from one another and then, felt a cold wind tousle their hair, as the front doors swung open. Right on time, a man stepped inside. Lowering their heads, they tried to look insignificant, as he strode past them towards the far door. Once they heard the door slam shut, Erika's head shot up.

"_All_ of you, go upstairs, _lock _yourselves inside and _sleep_," she commended in a whisper.

The girls and their Mistress obediently obeyed their order and filed upstairs. Without waiting for them to be out of sight, Erika scurried outside the relevant door and chanted the incantation in her mind. A dim glow surrounded the door. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she cast a similar spell on the front door, ensuring that nobody came _in_ and _nobody _got out.

Positioning themselves directly outside the door, the girls listened intently. Erika leaned lazily against the wooden frame, safe in the knowledge that _whatever_ happened; _she_ was able to flit out of harm's reach.

Not thinking about her own safety, Ella worried for her friend. She had seen what Lia was capable of and yet, it appeared that her friend had no control over her talents at all. Thinking a silent prayer, Ella hoped that somehow, Lia's abilities would wake in her time of need.

As Lia stood against the far wall, staring at the large bed that had been prepared with clean sheets, a hot bath and various massage oils for the coming client, her mind drifted to a moment several months before. A memory occupied her mind.

She saw a lake, saw herself and Murtagh beside it, talking. He had mentioned something about whores that she hadn't liked and then, they had put their differences aside and swam. Shortly after that, they had tried to kill one another. Then they had fought the Urgals, then he had saved her life and then, they had headed back to the forest where they made their Pact. The blood oath, that had changed the course of their friendship.

Chuckling to herself, she accepted that only _they_ could endure and _enjoy _such eventful days, without suffering a nervous breakdown. Suddenly, waiting around to talk to _some_ man, who may or may not be able to help them seemed terribly _dull_.

The sound of a door swinging shut and the approaching rhythmic steps indicated that it was show time. Positioning herself in the centre of the room, arms folded and her expression smooth, she stood and watched, as the door banged opened. As the door bounced back off the wall, it shut with a satisfying click.

Standing perfectly still, they stared at each other appraisingly. Whilst Lia held her position, he began to circle her with interested eyes. As he did so, she took in his appearance. The man was tall and even through his tunic, she could tell that he was extremely well built. But none of this was what sent a shiver of recognition down her smile; it was his ebony black skin and the dark, almost black eyes that shone with a sense of dominance.

The man eyed the blades at her side with something close to amusement and then her physique with wonder.

"You are…_different_, I must admit. I see no _need_ for dressing up in such a way, but if _this _is the service offered these days, then so be it; you will _do_," he finally announced.

Having stopped behind her, his hands reached forward to grab her shoulders and turn her around to face him. Sensing his movement, Lia spun around and backed away from him with the smallest shake of her head and a half smile on her lips. The man eyed her irritably.

"I am not accustomed to waiting. Undress. _Now_!" he ordered.

"Well you had better get _used_ to it, because you and _I_ are going to have a little _talk_," Lia informed him with enticing eyes.

"I did _not_ come here to _talk_," he stated flatly and headed for the door.

Lia counted several seconds in her head and then said the words that she hoped would change his mind.

"Would the _son_ of _Ajihad_ not even take a moment to mourn his father's _death_?" she asked softly.

Her question was met with a sharp intake of breath. Spinning around, he advanced upon her with frightening speed and she held her ground. Bearing down upon her with two grabbing hands, he reached for her neck. Dancing out of his way in one movement, she drew both her swords at the ready. When he turned to face her once more, his eyes were furious.

"Who are you? And how _dare _you suggest such lies?" he demanded, his face livid.

In form of answer, Lia dropped her altered visage. Her gut told her that in order for the encounter to be successful, she could pretend to be no other than _herself_. She saw the change in his eyes, as they widened in recognition and then, something inside them died. His face crumpled in despair, but even so, he pulled forth two swords of his own and stared down upon her with cold eyes.

"You are _her_…the one with The Rider. Then…he is _there_?" he asked, without needing to state where "_there_" was.

"We made it to The Varden," Lia confirmed, still maintaining her fighting stance. "The Rider is still there, but there was an attack. Durza came with an army of Kull. We defeated them, but the next day your father was tricked to his death. I know this, for I was _there_."

"The _great_ Ajihad, _tricked_?" His brows knitted together in disbelief.

"He was _betrayed _by the leaders of Du Vrangr Gata. Two bald headed men. Identical Twins. They led us into a cave, under the impression that some Kull remained hidden there. Once we had travelled far enough, they cast a spell that exploded the walls and your father was smashed into pieces," she muttered in disgust.

"_Killed_? By people under his _command_?" he choked and then his face darkened. "Stupid man. Stupid, _stupid_ man," he muttered.

A silence fell between them, but neither lowered their weapons and neither looked away.

"I feel I should _apologise_ in advance," he said in a gruff voice.

"For what?" Lia asked, although she had already guessed.

"For _killing_ you," he stated, with no trace of hesitation.

With no warning, he plunged both swords forward, in a clear attempt to remove her head. Parrying his attack, they stood, blades crossed over, pressed together and their glowering faces inches apart.

"Make no mistake; I could kill you with a _thought_," he growled down at her.

"But where on _earth_ would be the fun in _that_?" she stated with a challenging smile.

"_Indeed_," he agreed, launching into his attack.

Listening to the clashing of steel, Erika clicked an impatient tongue.

"Can that girl go _nowhere _without making a mortal enemy?" she groaned.

"No," Ella replied happily.

The sounds behind the door were like music to her ears and filled her with confidence. For who could _ever _match Lia with a blade?

Smiling, Ella jerked a thumb at the door. "She's _winning_."

"_Really_?" Erika responded wryly. "Because it sounds to _me_ as though she has met her _match_."

"Not a _chance_," Ella protested vehemently.

"_Hmmm_, would you _care_ to make a _wager_?" Erika suggested, placing her hand to a coin pouch at her side and shaking it suggestively.

Ella's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "You are _despicable_."

"No, I am simply _bored_," the seemingly heartless girl replied with an angelic smile. "Now how _much_?" she asked, her face all business.

Giving her an incredulous look, Ella ignored her and pressed her ear to the door.

Ducking under a blade, Lia was pleased to note that the dark man's brow was beaded with sweat, whilst her own remained dry as a summer's day.

"_So_, I was actually _wondering_ if you would _help_ me?" she asked conversationally, side stepping a thrust to her ribs.

"Well, why don't you _ask_ and see what I _say_?" he replied sarcastically, slicing his blade across the air where she had been a split second before.

"If you _insist_," she replied from behind him, slapping his behind with the flat of her blade and then leaping up, as he dropped to the floor and attempted to hack off her legs.

"Go on," he encouraged, anticipating her appearance behind him and stabbing his blade backwards, missing her by a hair's breadth.

Unperturbed, she slapped him once more, this time, against the side of his head and through annoyance more than anything else, he gave her a wide birth and they began to circle one another.

"It just so _happens_ that on the day that your _father _was murdered, my _partner_ was taken from me by the very _same_ men. Men that _apparently_ work for your King… Men, that are being kept _safe_ behind this _convenient_ spell. Now, _you_ wouldn't per chance happen to know of a way inside, where I could enter undetected, kill the bastards and rescue him?" she asked airily.

The man's eyebrows shot high. "The men are _in_ the castle?"

"Evidently _so_," Lia bobbed her head once.

"And _they_ killed my father?" he asked slowly.

"Yes," she replied in a hard voice.

"The _fool_ had it coming," he stated harshly, but the flicker of his eyes gave away his pain.

"He may not have been the most _charming_ man," Lia agreed. "But he fought for a just cause. Tell me, what do _you _fight for?"

"What I fight for is _none _of your business," he growled.

"Then what is keeping you from giving me the information that I desire?" Lia urged him with a pleasant smile.

"The fact that you will not be _alive_ to accomplish your task," he stated bleakly, dropping his swords and fixing her with an unfathomable look.

Knowing that she only had seconds, Lia shot forwards quicker than humanly possible, leapt onto his back and had her blade to his throat. Making a small slice to impress her point, a bead of sweat trickled from his brow and he stared at her from the corner of his eye. Standing perfectly still, Lia dragged the blade across a little more, nipping at the skin enough to draw a small, but steady stream of blood.

"Now you listen to _me _and you listen _carefully_ and I _swear_ to you, if I feel even the _tiniest _spark of magic emanating from you, I will cut your throat and gut you like a fish. Do you _understand_ me? Are you going to listen like a good little boy? Don't try to nod or shake your head, you'll just cut yourself even _more_. Just blink once for _yes_ and twice for _no_," Lia uttered calmly against his cheek.

With eyes almost hidden under the shadow of his brows, he blinked once. Lia nodded approvingly.

"_Good_," Lia praised him. "I regret that we started off on the wrong foot, but I suppose that it _was_ inevitable. I do not know the reasons as to why you are here sitting snugly in the nest of evil, whilst the rest of your family seek to purge the Empire of it and to be honest, I don't give a damn. What _I_ care about is that apparently, you can help me save my partner and _that_ is the _only _thing that matters to me in this world."

Taking a deep breath, she scrutinised his face. Unlike his father, the hardness was only skin deep. His eyes showed potential.

"_Hmmm_…" she said, glancing down at the trickle of blood that now stained the front of his tunic. "I get the feeling that under _different_ circumstances, you _could_ be a reasonable and respectable man and therefore, I will give you a chance to help me on your _own_ accord.

I am a fair person, all these threats _aside_ and for your aid, no matter what _little _you have to offer me; I will offer _you_ my _silence_. No one shall know your identity and I shall take it with me to the grave. But let me assure you of an inescapable fact. If, when I lower my blade, you kill me, I _guarantee_ that your secret will be _public _in _seconds_. Or do you honestly think that I work _alone_?"

Lines of suspicion creased his brow and Lia smiled.

"You think I'm _bluffing_ don't you?" she laughed. "Well I'm _not_. One of my friends can move faster than a flying arrow and her hearing is _inhumanly_ clear. She is listening to our _every_ word and no matter how talented _you_ are, she is _better_."

From the other side of the door, Erika clasped a hand to her heart and painted a delighted look across her face.

"Did you _hear_ that? She called me her _friend_! Well, _there _is a sign of the times!" she chuckled.

"She _also_ called you _inhuman_," Ella pointed out with a grin.

"A small, _insignificant_ detail!" Erika said in a dismissive manner, flicking an invisible speck of dust from her shoulder.

Mouth agape, Ella stared at the girl, momentarily stunned. With a secretive smile, Erika turned her attention back to the goings on beyond the door.

Carefully, Lia removed her blade from the man's neck and lowered herself to the ground. Never taking her eyes off him, she moved herself a fair distance away and then, after a casual spin of her blades, she gently placed them on the ground before her and folded her arms once more.

"Make your choice," she said in a hard voice.

Passing his fingers across his throat, the man examined the blood that glistened on their tips. He did not look at her, as he walked to the bed and perched himself on the edge. Resting his elbows on his knees, he inhaled deeply and glared down at the floor.

"What you ask for is nigh _impossible_ and the chances of finding what you need to accomplish it are even _less _impressive. Though it _seems _that fortune smiles upon you.

The only people that could help you gain entrance are members of _The Shield_ and if just so _happens _that you've _found_ one. Tell me, can _you_ move the speed of a flying arrow?"

"_Sometimes_," she admitted with an uncertain smile.

"Well you would _need_ it. I will spare you the technicalities, but I can explain _this_ much at least. Every night, when we take over the watch, there is a way to leave the spell vulnerable. All it takes is for _one_ of us to begin the spell but a _few_ seconds later and it leaves an _opening_. Ten seconds, where _anything_ could happen. The King is not aware of this and nobody wishes to be the one to inform him.

Unless you could vault over the wall undetected, I cannot see how even with _this_ advantage, you could pass undetected. The gates are manned from above the wall, by several armed guards, who wear charms protecting them from the influence of others. All _I _can offer you is _ten_ seconds. Is that honestly worth your efforts?" he asked bitterly.

Lia's eyes tightened. "My partner is worth _everything_."

"Then ten seconds you shall have," he laughed without humour.

"It should be enough for what I need tonight," she said with a curt nod.

"And what exactly _do_ you need tonight?" he asked.

"To _feel_," she answered vaguely.

"Then, I think it best if you remain here. You are close enough to the castle to sense whatever it is that you need to. The gap in the protection is so small, close proximity will be necessary," he informed her.

"Very well," she nodded.

"How do I know that I can trust you?" he asked suddenly, giving her a sideways glance.

"How do _I_ know that _I_ can trust _you_?" she countered.

Breaking into simultaneous grins, they shrugged and then the man ran his hands over his clean-shaven head and gave Lia a peculiar look.

"It is time," he said, rising to his feet.

"Then I shall not keep you," she replied amiably, waving a hand to the door.

A strange look passed across his face.

"Keep your mind open," he warned her, as he went to pick up and sheathe his weapons. "You may not even know that the moment has arrived until it has _passed_."

"I _will_ know," Lia said, her voice sure.

"Then I bid you farewell…_until_ tomorrow night."

"Until tomorrow night," she agreed, pleased.

Hearing her words, Erika unsealed the door, seconds before Lia opened it for him. Pressing themselves against the walls to make way for the man, Ella and Erika held their tongues. Ignoring them entirely, he strode past without a backward glance.

Stopping abruptly, he turned his head a fraction to the side. "Do you have a _name_?"

Lia offered the back of his head a knowing smile. "I'll tell you _mine_ if you tell me _yours_."

Names were a dangerous thing – they gave people power over you. Lia knew this and so did he. From their angle, they could just make out the subtle lifting of his cheek, before he carried on walking away. With a click of her fingers, Erika lifted the seal off the entrance and they watched as the son of Ajihad left the building.

After raiding the kitchen stores, Murtagh ate his fill and then set about wandering across each and every floor. He was curious to see exactly _how_ significant the positioning of the walls had been and it seemed that their placing had been _very_ significant _indeed_.

Guards had been placed; blocking off entry to the most _innocent_ of corridors and it appeared to make _no_ sense whatsoever. Only when he reached the ground floor and saw that the entrance to the dungeons was left completely unguarded, did his theory appeared questionable. Surely, if _this _was the area of utmost importance, it should have been heavily guarded.

Wanting to conceal his movements, he had taken to the passageways and passed as close to entrance, as the concealed tunnels would allow. Hidden behind a large tapestry, the large steel doors that led down to the dungeons were in sight. There was only a short stretch of corridor between himself and his destination and but one door on the opposite wall.

Even with the corridor empty, Murtagh had the strangest sensation tingling through him. It was odd – goose bumps coursed across his flesh and every hair on his body stood on end. Something wasn't right, but what? Determined to find out, he slowly stuck his head out, looked both ways and then stepped out of hiding.

The tingling grew stronger, it was a clear warning of some sort, but as of yet, he could see _nothing_ that was worth his fear. He took a slow step forward and then another and with each step, his skin began to prickle more and more.

When his foot was about to pass the point in line with the door, the sound of slamming footsteps had him stop. The steps were definitely coming his way. Retreating quickly, he leapt behind the tapestry, just in time to see a harassed looking serving girl, marching down the corridor in a huff. Through the smallest gap, he watched her approach.

Impatiently, Scarlet stood in front of the gate, waiting to be allowed out. Rubbing her arms and stamping her feet to fight the cold, she smiled to herself, as she thought of the girl that she had been asked to keep an eye out for.

Oh, she intended to keep an eye out all right. If she alerted the other girls to this wonderful news, they could _all_ keep their eyes open and if they _found_ her, they would be paid their weight in _gold_. The young man's threats meant nothing to her, not where _that _amount of coin was concerned.

As she dreamt of all the things that she could buy, the large gates slowly opened and she hurried forward, passing a dark skinned man, who she recognised as a regular client. Smiling at him shyly, she kept her head down and quickened her pace. If he had recognised her, he had made no attempt to show it.

Scurrying down the streets, she headed back to the Tavern. It was the place where she both worked and slept. She would deal with one more client and then she would find the others and tell them her plan.

Arriving in good time, she burst through the front doors and headed for her designated working area – the room at the furthest end of the corridor.

The dark skinned man passed through the gates and climbed up the steps and onto the wall that surrounded the castle. From here, he could see the other members of his order positioned at various points, all perfectly still, except for their lips, which vibrated from the constant chant.

Standing himself behind the nearest man, he prepared to take over. The man's face was familiar, but his name, like all of theirs, remained unknown. Tapping his finger against the man's shoulder, the man stopped chanting, gave him a curt nod and walked away.

All around the perimeter of the wall, the same occurrence was taking place. The switch was almost complete. Already he could hear the murmur of the spell on the wind. The others had already begun. He waited the promised ten seconds and then, he joined in.

Lia stood, sandwiched between Erika and Ella, as all three of them stared out of the bedroom window up at the castle. Lia's eyes flitted from the walls to the windows, as she wondered where her partner might be. Ella's eyes simply drank in the sheer size of the building and the high walls with a bleak look. Only Erika, with her keen vision could see what they could not.

"Our friend is walking on the wall," she informed them.

They squinted hard into the darkness that had fallen fast.

"He has replaced someone," she carried on. "They are all being replaced. Are you ready?"

Lia nodded. Ella squeezed her shoulder and Erika closed her eyes, trying to feel the moment of magical weakness when it arrived.

For several seconds, there was not a sound. Each of them held her breath, scared of missing whatever it was and then, both girls leapt back, as Lia suddenly jerked backwards and collapsed, gasping on the floor.

Those few seconds where nothing happened felt like hours. Lia felt her lungs burning, as she denied them any air. She could not afford to miss the moment. The void that he had left was open and waiting, as it had been since the moment he had disappeared. And now, it was tearing at her insides, ripping wider, as it desperately begged for his return. Every part of her mind and soul that belonged to him lay open wide.

At the passing of the fourth second, she felt it. Like an invisible comet, it came hurtling towards her and then, it slammed into her hard, like a punch in the gut. There was no pain, there was only _him_. In that second, the void was gone and he was there, just as he had _always _been. His familiar warmth surged through her, his life ran through her veins and a fire returned to her eyes. Her palm flared with a burning sensation that left her desperate to look upon it, but there was no time.

Scrabbling to her feet, she ran to the window with wild eyes; knowing _exactly_ where it was that he stood at that point in time. With her mind, she shouted out to him with the few seconds that she had left.

_Murtagh!_

The servant girl seemed to be looking for someone. She was muttering under her breath and when her eyes fell on the door, a triumphant smile crossed her lips and she headed towards it.

The tingling that had stopped; started again, as Murtagh watched the girl march past his place of hiding, to the point where he had progressed. And then, as her foot stepped past the exact same spot where he had halted, she could go no further.

Sickened, Murtagh's face twisted in revulsion. The girl wasn't simply _denied_ further progress; she was _destroyed_. Not a trace of her remained. The second that her foot passed the ground in line with the door, some invisible force in the air caused her entire body to explode in a shower of flying limbs and blood.

By all rights, the walls should have been painted red and the ground should have been littered with body parts. But as quickly as she had exploded, everything flew back inwards. It was all sucked towards a small hole the size of a pinprick, and then, there was _nothing_. There was no sign that the girl had ever passed through there at all.

Shuddering, Murtagh realised how close _he_ had been to walking through whatever it was and then, acknowledged that she had died in his place. He wondered how many other people had died innocently, strolling down this corridor and what the purpose was of such an evil spell?

Leaning against the side of the tunnel, he rolled his head back, covered his eyes and thought of the only person that he knew who might have been able to shine some light on the situation. The one person he could _never_ ask for help. The one person who he wanted to keep as _far _away from this place, as humanly possible.

_Oh Lia, I could really use your help right now_ he muttered desperately.

Pushing himself off, he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and began to trudge forward. He made it three steps, before being slammed hard back against the wall. Breathing heavily, he clutched at his chest.

Everything that had ever been missing had returned and then, to complete the moment, he heard her call his name. The voice he had wanted to hear every second of every day. The voice he had missed so terribly, that at the sound of the one word, his throat closed.

Her picture filled his mind and for a moment, it looked as though she was lost in a dark room and then, her eyes fell on him. The look that passed between them was nothing but the purest of longing and then; they were running towards each other, in this place that existed somewhere between them both.

_Lia!_ he yelled, as he pushed his legs to run faster and close the distance between them.

_Murtagh, I_ - she began.

_Lia, you_ - he started.

Both spoke at the same time and both were abruptly cut off, as some force cut between them, severing their communication. There was no more visual and no more sound…but their bond reformed was stronger than before and their emotions were clear. They were still a part of one another; _whole_ once more and suddenly, everything became bearable.

Wrestling with his emotions, Murtagh slid down the wall, until he was sat breathing hard and staring down at his glowing palm. Was he more relieved or terrified of her presence? Did it mean that she was here or did it mean that by some miracle, she had established contact? It was too much to ponder and he did not want to waste a further minute thinking about anything other than _her_.

Shutting his eyes, he allowed himself this night to merely sit in this cold, dark tunnel and feel her. Giving in to his senses, he let her emotions wash over him and in turn, he showered her with every feeling that gripped him at that moment. It was joy, relief, gratitude and love, one thousand times over.

He could feel the heat of it all build up inside him, until it glowed brightly and then, he sent it her way. Clenching his jaw tight, he willed the sob that was building in his chest to remain there. He succeeded. But he was unable to stop the singe tear, which seeped out of the corner of one of his closed lids.

"Did you _see _him?" Ella shouted, shaking Lia hard.

"Forget _that_," Erika argued. "Did the idiot have anything _useful_ to say?"

Ignoring them, Lia could only stand, gripping the edge of the window hard, with eyes staring wistfully into the darkness. He was with her again, he was inside her where he belonged and they were together once more. Fighting back the rising tears, she answered their questions slowly, one by one, in a tight and controlled voice.

"_Yes_, I saw him and _no_ he did not say anything. The connection was cut... but he is _here_," she said, with a tap to her chest.

"Yes, he is always in your _heart_. We _know_," Erika muttered sarcastically.

Ella's eyes brightened. "How is he?"

"Relieved," Lia breathed, closing her eyes. "As am I."

Looking indignant, Erika's lips twisted into a bemused smile. "That is _fascinating_, but you didn't _really_ find out anything _useful _though, _did_ you?"

"I found out _enough_," Lia replied in a faraway voice.

The opening of the door caused all three heads to shoot around, as a young girl entered the room. She looked up, started at the sight of them and the second her eyes landed on Lia, she turned and ran. She was fast. Erika was _faster_.

One second Erika was standing by the door, wagging a cautioning finger and the next, she had the girl in a headlock with a blade to her throat.

"_Deal_ with her," Lia said, giving Erika a deliberate look.

"Wait!" the girl cried desperately. "He told me to give you a message!"

The blade did not move from her skin, but it rested there snugly, instead of threatening to slice. In what little time she had to talk herself out of this situation and escape alive, the girl talked quickly and pleaded Lia with her eyes.

"_He_?" Lia demanded, advancing on the girl with no weapons but her fists.

"The young man," she blubbered helplessly, between the rising sobs.

Erika eyed the sobbing girl in disgust, glaring hard at the tears that now soaked through the sleeve of her dress. Ella's eyes flickered between the girl and her friend. Lia stopped a foot away from the girl and leaned in with a menacing curl of her lips.

"_What_ message?" Lia whispered in a deadly tone.

"He said… He said for me to tell you not to come," the girl finished, finally breaking down.

Lia's arched an amused brow. "He… he _said_ that?"

"Yes," the girl replied in a small, choked voice.

Stepping back, Lia bit down on the inside of her lips to hold back a laugh. Glancing out of the window, she grinned to herself and then sighed. It was no use; she could not keep it in.

"_Ah_, Good _Sir_," she chuckled. "Since when have I _ever _done as I was told?"

"Since when have _either_ of you ever done as you were told," Erika muttered dryly, relating the words to memories of her _own_.

"What does it mean?" Ella asked, in a more serious tone.

"I am not _sure_," Lia replied, sobering herself momentarily, before fixing the weeping girl with the sweetest smile. "But our little _friend_ here is going to tell us _everything _that she knows."

The girl's eyes widened and fresh tears began to fall, along with two streaming trails of unattractive snot.

"_Ugh!_ Good grief woman, _that _is _disgusting_!" Erika griped.

"But I don't know _anything_!" the girl wailed.

"_Erika_?" Lia asked politely.

"_Yes_," the beautiful girl, with the temper that was wearing dangerously thin, replied in a hiss.

Smiling in a way that caused a chill to pass down the girl's spine, Lia eased the knife from her throat. Dropping her arm from around the girl's neck, Erika stepped away, staring at her arm as if it were infected by something nasty.

"_Make _her talk", Lia requested in a pleasant tone.

Erika's responding smile had the girl's knees begin to tremble and left Ella wishing that she could somehow be perceived as frightening. At times like _these_, she felt next to useless.

"It would be my _pleasure_," was Erika's obliging reply.

Then, all three girls converged around their victim.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

By the time the three girls left the tavern, everything and everyone inside had returned to normal… everyone, but Scarlet. But that didn't matter. She didn't count. Leaving her confused and with no recollection of her evening whatsoever, they headed back to the apothecary.

The lights were off, but as Lia pressed her hand against the door, it moved. She smiled, and they walked inside. The man, Albert, still lay slumped across the table. Erika took a moment to poke him in the arm- he grunted and continued to snore.

"_Fascinating_," she mumbled, before forgetting him instantly.

"Lia… this… this Hepzibah. I know you made her seal the deal, or _whatever_ it is that you did. But I have a bad feeling about her. I don't think she can be trusted," Ella muttered, eyeing their surroundings warily.

"What a pile of dung!" Hepzibah's voice muttered from the doorway to the lower chamber. "_You're _just saying that, because no one ever _has_."

Lia grinned, as she saw Ella begin to fidget in embarrassment.

"Good evening," she said, with a slight inclination of her head.

"Well, I see you all _survived_," the lady replied with a huff.

"But of course, _you_ already _knew_ that," Lia pointed out, with a tilt of her head and half a smile.

Throwing the warrior a withering look, she cocked a finger and stormed down the steps.

"Thank you for the _warning_," Ella whispered, attempting to elbow Lia playfully in the side.

Lia swayed out of reach and ushered her friend before her.

"It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs," Lia stated solemnly, before extending a hand and ruffling her friend's hair.

"_Do_ shut up and get a move on. I need to sit! My feet are _killing_ me!" Erika complained.

The two girls stopped in their tracks and glanced down at the strange girls shoes. They were boots, crafted with an extraordinarily high heel. It was not a common sight.

"Oh _dear_," Lia said, all sympathy absent from her tone. "We shall have to do something about _those_."

Erika stomped her feet together and the snapping sound, as her teeth came together, echoed along the stairwell.

"You will do _nothing_ of the sort," she snapped.

"_Fine_," Lia said airily.

Ella gave a small, condescending laugh, that made Erika want to give the girl a small shove, but she refrained. Limping slightly, desperately ignoring the huge blisters on the soles of her feet, she followed them - muttering curses every step of the way.

The entered, to find Hepzibah kneeling on the ground. At the sound of their entrance, she turned her head and gestured them to join her.

"Come, _come_, sit, _sit_!" she ordered.

"I don't want to be doing this all bloody night! Are we all here? _Good_! Now, gather around!"

As they surrounded the woman, they saw that she was knelt before a large sheet of canvas, which had been dyed a deep shade of blue. Lia crouched herself by Hepzibah's side, whilst Erika and Ella knelt at either end of the blank canvas.

Extending a hand to Lia, Hepzibah wriggled her fingers. "Take my hand girl."

Lia eyed the hand with mistrust. "Why?"

Rolling her eyes, the woman pointed down at the canvas.

"Do you know what that _is_?" she asked. Her tone was smug.

"I haven't the faintest idea, I'm afraid," Lia confessed, unabashed.

"_That_, my girls, is a _map_," she said, with a slow wink.

"Of what?" Ella asked, frowning down at the nothingness.

"_Ah_…" Erika nodded knowingly and then gave the woman an appraising look. "My, _my_, you must have sold your _soul_ for one of these."

The woman turned her eyes to Erika, where they now remained, shining with barely concealed excitement. Ella gave Erika a meaningful cough, but her attention-grabbing tactic was ignored.

She sighed, giving up. "What _is_ it?"

Her voice lacked any real enthusiasm. Whatever it was; was guaranteed to be beyond her understanding. She could see that Lia was also struggling to comprehend what they were looking at, or talking about.

"Something _very _rare…Something _extremely_ sought after, and something that is more likely to get this woman killed, than our unwelcome presence," Erika replied casually.

Her reply may have been stated offhandedly, but the expression on her face was one of intrigue. When she looked at the woman next, there was both respect and the briefest glimpse of fear in that one raised brow.

Hepzibah chuckled darkly. "My _dear_ girl, I sold my soul to the devil _long _before I came across _this_ precious find."

"I _believe_ you," Erika nodded.

She did believe her - that much was evident. Ella shifted uncomfortably, whilst Lia cleared muttered something incoherent and grabbed the older woman's hand.

"Now what?" she demanded.

Hephzibah closed her eyes and smiled.

"Now…we think of the castle."

"Anything _else_?" Lia asked tersely.

"Just close your eyes and think of the castle," Hephzibah sighed. "And you two, _watch_. When it happens, say the words."

"_What_ words?" Ella grumbled.

"Just _watch_," Erika said, jabbing a finger toward the map.

Reluctantly, Lia closed her eyes. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but her companions were watching over her. If this turned out to be some trick of any kind - they would intervene. Trusting them, she pictured the castle in the back of her mind. She saw its dark shape rising up under the light of the moon, pictured each of the turrets climbing high into the sky. Imagined the -

Erika muttered several words… words that Lia did not understand, and yet made perfect sense.

"Lia, open your eyes," Ella said quickly.

She did, and when she looked down, she heard a sharp intake of breath and realised that it came from her. One by one, they all leaned forward and looked down at the canvass, which now shimmered. It was as though they were looking into a pool of water.

The surface seemed to glisten and move, and beneath the surface, were silver lines. Many silver lines, all finely drawn and connected, detailing every inch of the castle. They could see rooms, passageways, entrances and exits and there were colours too, other than the prominent blue.

There were clouds that hung over some areas, in various shades of yellow and green. Some areas only seemed misted over by these colours, but others were completely obscured by thick, heavy blankets. Reaching out a hand, Ella felt a sudden urge to touch the surface, to see what it felt like. It looked like small waves moved across the sheet, as if the canvass existed beneath a tiny ocean.

Her index finger hovered above the surface and then, moved closer and closer, until it was only centimetres away. Then a fist closed around her wrist. Startled, she looked up to see Erika's face inches from hers and her expression was frightening.

"_Don't_ touch the surface," she warned, in a voice so low, that she felt the hairs on her arms stand on end.

"Why?" she breathed.

Erika paused, before finally muttering, "Just _don't_."

"What kind of map _is_ this?" Lia asked.

She wanted nothing more than to lean across the map and examine each area thoroughly, but something in Erika's tone caused her to keep her distance.

"It is a map of _whatever _and _wherever _you want" Hepibah replied, stroking the canvass lovingly.

Ella nearly screamed for her to stop, but her finger only passed across the surface, leaving a trail in the liquid- or whatever it was. She noticed that Erika said nothing, only turned her head aside in disgust. Lia frowned, but retuned to the matter at hand.

"Murtagh…I know where he is…or at least, where he _was_," she muttered to herself.

"The girl… She said that his chamber was on the highest level, facing the city. The twentieth door from the stairs," Ella put in.

"Yes, but she didn't have much else of use to say, _did _she? Sniffling, whining, disgusting whore" Erika grunted irritably, pulling a face and refraining from looking at her snot stained sleeve.

"It's a start," Lia sighed.

Locating his chamber on the map, she pointed at it and then, moved her finger down several floors, until she pointed to where a misty yellow appeared to hang over a corridor.

"And this is where he was when I found him," she stated, unsure what to make of what she was seeing. "The colours?" she prompted.

"Magic," Hepzibah replied. "The colours represent… potency. The yellow patches indicate the use of minor spells and enchantments, and the green represent ones which are superior.

Of course this all depends on the level of the person casting the spells within. What they may consider being minor; could still kill you in an instant. But it is nice to look before you walk, don't you agree?"

"Why do you keep such a map?" Lia asked carefully.

"Well its value for a start. Your interesting friend over there made no exaggeration. This item _is_ worth dying for."

Biting down on her lip in thought, Lia gazed down at the spot where Murtagh had been - the place where she could not see.

"How do we use it?" she finally asked.

"You? Use it?" Hepzibah snorted a laugh and grabbed the edges of the canvass.

The three girls toppled backwards, sure that whatever covered the map would spill over the edges, but as Hepzibah began to roll it up, nothing happened at all. The canvass appeared to be perfectly normal. Standing up, she walked to a nearby chest and locked it inside.

"None of you are fit to use it. It stays here. You will simply have to memorize the locations and hope that you can remember enough to not get yourselves killed," she said in a final tone. "Now, you've seen where he is and what kind of trouble awaits you, I suggest you all go and find some place to rest, and we deal with this in the morning. So be off with you!"

Turning her back to them, Hepzibah waited for the pleasant sound of their retreating steps. There was a brief shuffle, but then it stopped. Sighing heavily, she already knew what was to come, and she had to bite down on her tongue to stop from uttering words that could cause her to seize up once more.

"_Yes_?" she asked acidly.

Hearing the grin in Lia's voice did nothing for her control.

"We would appreciate it _very_ much if you would provide us with a place to stay," the warrior asked in a wonderfully civil tone.

"There is only the one bedroom," Hepzibah shot back over her shoulder. "If you're going to stay somewhere, it will be locked down here, where I can make sure you stay out of trouble."

"_Perfect_," Lia beamed.

This was not the reaction Hepzibah had been counting on. Fuming, she headed towards the stairs, before stopping abruptly and fixing them with a hard look.

"If you stay under my roof, you wake when I wake, and I warn you that I wake _early_. Every morning is an early morning and we will not rest until we find some way to rescue your cretin, and get you all out of my sight," she growled.

"That works for me," Lia agreed, with an angelic smile.

"I _do_ like an early morning," Ella sang.

"Will you not bring us some tea? Maybe some feather pillows and some blankets perhaps?" Erika asked, with expectant eyes.

Without a further word, Hepzibah stormed up the steps, and slammed and bolted the door. The girls laughed heartily.

Moving along the dark tunnels towards his room, Murtagh had passed the initial joy of reunion progressed to blind panic. Never had he been so blind when it came to Lia. Even in the beginnings of their connection, her thoughts had always been clear - especially the verbal. Now, he was fumbling like a man trapped in the dark.

Her emotions swarmed around him, mingled with his and the cause for their rapid changes was unknown. It was infuriating and driving him insane with both worry and curiosity. At first, she had simply been relieved, and that, they had shared, and it was wonderful.

After that though, there was anger, then something like a trace of humour and then, all was serious, then she was scared, then she was determined and then, she was amused once more and now, she was serious again and he felt excluded. Shut out.

She was experiencing all of this, and he was no longer a part of it. He felt like a bystander - with no part to play, other than to act as an audience to a performance he couldn't even understand. He could have guessed the reasons if he tried. He had had plenty of practice associating her various feelings, with the way that she looked and the words that she said.

When certain emotions reared their heads, he could almost see her accompanying expressions - but it was a dangerous game to play. How could he be sure of what she was doing? It seemed foolish to try and guess. What if what he guessed wrong? Even worse, what if what he guessed was _right_.

_Where the bloody hell are you Lia? _he demanded pathetically, pulsing out the thought with all his might.

It was no good. She couldn't hear. That was a path that still remained blocked to them. Amidst his worries for her whereabouts, there was the whole issue of the woman he had witnessed exploding into pieces and then, disappearing. Something didn't want anyone to approach the dungeons. Something or someone didn't want that very badly, and they were protecting it by _any_ means possible.

He needed to think of something, anything to make him feel like there was something he could do. All spells could be countered. Every place with an entrance _had_ to have an exit. There had to be some way to get in there, without getting noticed or killed. "_No_" wasn't an acceptable answer. Then again, it never had been.

Almost reaching the entrance behind the mirror, he prepared his brain for some extreme and intense analysing. If he could not solve the dungeon mystery over night, he would at least ascertain where the hell his lover was. He needed one answer before he succumbed to the unwanted necessity of sleep - just _one_. It was all that he asked for. It didn't seem much in the grand scale of things.

Pushing the mirror aside, he was greeted by the feeling of warm, moist air touching his face. Carefully sliding the mirror back into place, he scanned his room, looking for the source. It was a bath. A steaming, large bath.

The air seemed to have a pleasant scent- something like lavender. The walls were dripping with condensation. Whatever idiot had been in charge of preparations had forgotten to open the window. Opening both of them for himself, a cold wind blasted inside, waking him up. The air was cooler now, still scented and warm - but breathable.

Approaching the bath, Murtagh stared down at it and then down at himself. He remembered exactly the last time that he had bathed. The lake. The night that he and Lia had finally given in to each other. It seemed a crime to wash such memorable grime from his flesh, but he was more than certain that she would appreciate a cleaner, slightly more recognisable Murtagh, than the mess that he currently presented.

Unless of course he intended to stink Morzan from his body, which unfortunately, seemed an unlikely and ineffective course of action. Giving in to temptation, he decided that a chance for bathing should not go amiss. However, a fool he was not.

Lowering his head, he sniffed at the vapours rising from the steam. Then, he dipped a finger into the water and tasted it, considering the flavour. There was no trace of anything that could be used to drug him. Indeed, if there had been something in the air, he would have felt its affects by now.

Struggling to grasp the idea, it seemed that Galbatorix would stick to his word- whilst Morzan resided inside him, he would not be harmed. Still, there were other ways to manipulate a being without causing harm, and he intended to be wary of every single opportunity. After careful consideration, the bath still seemed safe enough for use.

Removing his trousers, he tossed them aside, rid himself of his underwear and then climbed over the edge, testing the water with his foot. He decided that afterwards, he would wash his clothes in it. The last time they had seen water was the first time at the lake, where he and Lia had almost killed one another. Happy days.

The water was just right. Easing himself inside, he groaned pleasurably, as the water rushed over his body and took away aches in his muscles. Gone, were the twinges of pain and knots of tension, that he had never even realised were there. Grudgingly, he mentally thanked whoever had seen him fit to grant him this one luxury.

With the fresh air from the open window brushing across his face and the soothing water below, Murtagh felt himself leave the conscious world and drift inside himself.

Three, large cauldrons stood side by side. So large were they, that five grown men could have stood happily in each. Above the caldrons stood a mirror. A tall, oval shaped mirror, that presented no reflection. It's surface was like polished garnet and smoke rising from the three cauldrons made patterns dance across the surface.

In the first cauldron, lay a smoking pile of white ash. In the second, spotted at the very bottom, were a few drops of blood, and in the third, there was only unidentifiable gore. The Twins stood beside these, but they did not look at them. They stared at the large space behind.

A pit that had been dug. A pit that was ten feet wide and ten feet deep. A pit that was empty. Frowning down at it, they shook their heads and then turned their faces to the mirror.

"It is not enough. We have six days to complete the ritual and so far, only five accidents," one said, absentmindedly flicking a piece of human fat from his fingers into the cauldron containing the gore.

"But if any more people go missing in the castle, people will begin to talk, and his majesty expressly wished that we be subtle with our choices," the other said, eyeing the empty cauldrons irritably.

"Unless, we take from where there is an abundance of…nobodies," the other suggested slowly.

His brother's lips twitched at the corners. "I'm listening brother."

"I think that tonight…we should go for a little stroll. Do you not agree?"

"That could be…most pleasant," the other agreed.

Eyeing the mirror with malicious smiles, they turned from the room and left.

Curled up on the stone floor, lying on her side, close to the roaring fire, Ella found that despite her worries, her eyelids were slipping shut.

"_Sleep_," Lia whispered, patting her friend's shoulder.

"Won't you?" Ella murmured quietly.

"You know I cannot. I do not need it anyway. But my problems do not concern you. Sleep Ella. Dream happy _Rider _dreams," she chuckled deviously.

Ella turned red, half because of the suggested innuendo and secondly, because until that very moment, she had completely forgotten about him. However, now that she had been reminded of his existence, she thought about the one that she loved.

She heard Lia shuffling around and some irritated noises coming from Erika, who was noising trying to find something to make a bed out of. Ignoring the hustle and bustle, she recalled her last pleasant memory of Eragon.

The last actual memory had been of him stalking off to ride Saphira, but that was not the one that sprang to mind. The one that she wanted to recall happened only the day before. The day that they thought that Murtagh had been killed. They had kissed, and she had been overwhelmed with joy, by the fact that he was not as shy as he seemed. She was barely an experienced girl herself. Technically, she was still "_innocent_."

However, their kisses had been passionate beyond what she thought possible for the timid, clumsy and seemingly inept boy. And it had been a beautiful moment. Rare and wonderful, she had never wanted it to end. She had sworn to herself that she would stay by his side…that was, until the choice had to be made.

She hadn't known that her choice to help her friend would take her away- to another place, another world, and what felt like another life. But if she had known, would she still have chosen this path? Sadly, she knew that deep down, she would have.

Would she ever see him again? Would they survive? Or would their task be the death of them? Lia's determination made it difficult to believe that they could fail. But did not failing also involve not dying? Ella sincerely hoped so.

Refusing to think about it any longer, she forced her mind to release its hold on such thoughts, and let herself slip away, thinking about that last time in the cave.

Arranging herself comfortably, Lia sat cross legged and prepared to lapse into her state of meditation, that compensated for sleep and allowed her to watch over them at the same time. The process would have been successful, had Erika not planted herself directly in front of her. Lia tried not to see her, but it was hard. The girl was eyeing her as if she were doing something ridiculous. Sighing, she eyed the girl with contempt.

"Isn't there _something_ you could do? Some place you can _go_? _Surely _with _your _magical powers, you could burst right through that door and go and do…whatever it _is_ that you _do_," Lia suggested rudely.

Erika glanced at the stairwell. "Its _true_. I _could_ bugger off and leave you, but really, what could I do?"

Lia noted the cutting edge to Erika's tone and lifted a curious brow.

"The Varden was fine," Erika continued her rant without invitation. "Oh _yes_, they all knew about me and what I could do. _They_ had the good sense to _fear _me, give me what I want and stay away. But _here_, I can't risk being seen. I can't just go around flitting from place to place, indulging myself and if I -"

She looked as though she was about to say something else, but she swiftly changed her mind and lifted up one of her feet.

"And then there's this _walking _business?! Walking is _just_-" she struggled to find the right words, and then pulled off her boot to reveal red, bloodied and blistered feet.

"_Awful_! I don't know how you normal idiots do it all the time?! I haven't walked more than a few steps in _years_ and _look_! _Look_ at them! Look at the _state_ of my beautiful _feet_!"

Muttering, she tried to put her boot back on.

"_Ow_!" she cried, and then threw it across the floor, where it bounced a few times and ended up in a dusty corner.

Lia grinned. "Aren't they a little _expensive _to just be throwing around," she said in both a mocking and reprimanding tone.

"Oh _piss off_," Erika shot back at her. "Like they will ever survive a suicide mission like _this_."

Ripping off the other boot, she threw it to join its' partner.

"Besides," she said, after gaining a bit more composure and dignity. "When we get out of here, I can find the _finest _cobbler, and he can make me _another _pair and _then_, I'll take my wonderful new shoes and leave your pathetic arses _behind_."

"That sounds heavenly," Lia smirked.

Getting up, Lia walked over to where the shoes had landed, crouched down and unsheathed her sword.

"What _are _you doing?" Erika asked warily.

"Just _removing_ the problem," Lia replied, with a quick grin.

Raising the sword high, she brought it down on the heel of the first, sending it flying across the room and then she repeated the process with the second. When her task was done, she resumed her position and threw the shoes to the girl, who eyed them in disgust.

"_Ruined_," she muttered.

"You can walk in them now, so stop whining like a child," Lia scolded. "And if you don't make me kill you before morning, I _may_ consider mixing some balm for your feet."

Erika clapped her hands. "_Lucky_ me."

"Do shut up and _sleep_," Lia spat.

"I can't," Erika replied simply.

Lia stared at her hopelessly. _There _went her chances for a rejuvenating night.

"What do you mean you _can't_. You can't or you _won't_?"

"Like I'd go _that_ far to piss you off! _Trust_ me, if I _could_ sleep, I most certainly _would_."

"Why can't you sleep?"

Narrowing her eyes, Erika folded her arms. "I just _can't_."

"Well _neither_ can I," Lia grumbled.

"Oh _joy_," Erika exclaimed sarcastically.

For a few minutes, they simply sat, looking in opposite directions and listening to the cracking of the fire. Erika sat lost in her thoughts, and Lia tried her hardest to make sense of what she was feeling from Murtagh.

He was angry and upset and confused. He had been feeling worse, but then something happened that dulled it - made it melt away. But it was still there, hiding under the surface, waiting to creep up on him. He was suffering and she was no where near to help him, to hold him, to… a burning built up inside her at the thought. Unable to act on her needs, she simply sent him her lust, and hoped that it would do something to take some of his tension away.

It was going to be a long night. A very, _very_ long night. Her adversary sat before he, already bored, miserable and wishing she were elsewhere. Under any other circumstances, Lia enjoyed silence. Like the dark, it gave her a sense of peace. Normally, these moments alone - or as alone as she ever was - were a time of relaxation and reflection. Not now. It was impossible to find any comfort in it; with the irritating girl tainting the atmosphere with her discontent.

Giving in to the cruelly inevitable, Lia pulled out one of her swords, placed it across her lap and began to tap the flat of her blade against one knee.

"Why did you help us?" she asked.

Erika's sulky expression lifted to reveal one that was guarded.

"You know why I am helping you," she replied, forcing a wicked smile.

Lia's eyes flickered to the girl's so suddenly, that she almost jumped. "Not now," she corrected. "_Then_…in the mountains. Why did you help us?"

Sitting herself up straight, Erika stretched her hand before her face and began to examine her perfect, long nails.

"Lia…what are we doing?" she asked slowly, sounding amused.

Lia shrugged. "Making conversation."

Smiling crookedly, Erika examined her other set of nails. "And _why_ would you wish to converse with _me_?"

"_Know _your _enemy_," Lia smirked. "That is how _I_ have always been taught."

"So, what you're saying," Erika began, folding her legs beneath her. "Is that you want to learn _more_ about me - _not_ because you wish for us to be friends, but because you wish to know enough to _hate _me all the more effectively?"

Lia nodded affably. "That sounds about right."

"Thank _goodness_ for that," Erika chuckled in relief. "Well…If _that_ is the case, then it is only _fair _that _I_ should have the same right."

Placing a pensive finger to her chin, Erika dared Lia to refuse her with her eyes. Lia gave the girl an assessing glance and then put her blade aside, puling her knees to her chest.

"Very well," Lia agreed. "But _I_ asked first."

"Yes you _did_," Erika agreed and then stared at the ground between them. "And the answer to your question is _vengeance_. I know that you undoubtedly think of me as some spawn of pure evil, and whilst technically that _hasn't_ been proven to be wrong," she laughed, "I did _not _know who the Twins worked for, nor would I have chosen to work for them had I known. As it was, I had very _little _choice in the matter."

Lia opened her mouth, but Erika raised a palm.

"Yes, _yes_," she muttered. "I already _know_ what you're about to say. You are _terribly _predictable. Let me guess, something about always _having_ a choice?" she asked with a deliberate smile.

Saying nothing, Lia only stared back blankly. A distinct sign of Erika's correct interpretation.

"I _never_ had a choice," she stated blackly. "I know nothing of you, nor your upbringing, nor what brought you here, and I imagine that you will not wish to tell me these things. But I can promise you that from the day that they found me, I was theirs. Things happen. _Bad_ things happen, and we have to deal with the consequences, some of which are beyond our control."

She gave Ella's sleeping form a wistful glance.

"I wouldn't supposed that _she_ would know anything about it," she sighed, but then her voice hardened. "But _you_ should understand. You have that look about you Lia. Bad things happen and sometimes, you are _stuck_ with them, and there is _no_ way out. But I _digress_…"

Stopping suddenly, her mood lightened and her usual nonchalance returned.

"In short, the Twins _used _me. Yes, I admit to being used by them many a time before- but _always_ as part of my job, a deed for The Varden - something that I could _justify_. When they used me to find information that was to lead to your death, I stood my _ground_."

Arching a brow, Lia gave the girl a strange look. Erika noted the change and frowned.

"Don't look so _surprised_ warrior, I am not a monster. Not that I care about _your_ life, but I am _no_ murderer. Unless I _chose_ to take your life, I play _no_ part in other people's games.

They _abused _my powers and knowledge and I wished to make them suffer. Your freedom, along with Murtagh's, proved to be the best place to…hit them where it _hurts_," she said, with a menacing grin.

As Lia listened to the answer to her question, she was satisfied by it. It was easier to hear, than some thirst to perform a good deed. If there was one thing that she learned, was that people rarely performed deeds of selflessness. It was a sad fact, but true.

"And why did you have no choice? Why did you belong to them and how did they find you?" Lia asked, intrigued.

Erika's mouth pulled up at one corner. "I _do_ believe that was _more_ than one question, and I _also_ believe that it is _my_ turn."

Dipping her head a fraction to the side, Lia shrugged and waved an inviting hand.

"Alright," she acceded. "What would you ask of me?"

Erika's eyes moved to the ceiling and her brows pulled together in thought, until finally she fixed the girl was a curious, almost alien look.

"Why must you save him? I see that you love him. I cannot deny that, but love, life - these are very _temporary_ things. You have a life ahead of you girl, and powers beyond anyone's understanding - your life _means_ something. _He_ is doomed.

Alright, so he is a fine catch in the good looks department, and I daresay that with a body as impressive as his, he performs wonders in the bedroom. But there are _other_ men Lia, _better _men. Bearing that in mind, why must you throw it all away?

Why do you invite that poor, stupid, naïve little girl to follow you, and why do you insist on involving complete strangers, and any who will listen, to embark on this one way mission to disaster?

I am being perfectly honest with you. I do not understand at all. Enlighten me. I wish to know what drives you. I will never understand it, but I am curious none the less. So…i_ndulge_ me…"

The most disturbing thing that Lia found about the question, was Erika's expression. The girl has marred her tone with as much sarcasm as possible, but in her eyes was a genuine thirst for understanding. Her words may have been said lightly, but they were true.

Thinking of the question, Lia found that the answer was not one, but many, and demanded a serious level of explanation. Would she divulge such things to the girl before her? Was it too personal, too much to share? Could it be used against her? She decided that it could not. She had already endured the worst that anyone could have done to her - this was only talk.

Suddenly aware that she had never ever spoke of her feelings to anyone other than Murtagh, she felt the bizarre feeling of self consciousness. Moving her eyes away from the girl, she pulled forward a generous heap of her hair, and began to run her fingers through it; a gesture disgustingly feminine.

Wincing inwardly at the thought, she was somewhat glad that Murtagh couldn't see her behaviour now. He would have found it endearing - _she_ found it _humiliating_. Although, imagining his grinning face, she found herself grinning in turn, and sent him one last wave of affection, before looking up. Erika was surveying her with careful, yet slightly irritated eyes.

"_Why _are you _smiling_?" the girl asked suspiciously.

Enjoying the look on Erika's face, Lia's grin almost split her face in two, and she ignored the girl's question completely.

"Are you sure that you wish to hear my words? I fear that they will be beyond your comprehension and therefore, a waste of my time," Lia asked.

Erika leaned forward. "_Try_ me," she invited the warrior.

"Well, I suppose that we _do _have time to kill," Lia sighed, lowering her head, and then looking up at the girl from under her lashes. "Are you ready for this?"

Erika smirked a "yes" .

Lia smirked back.

Drifting inside himself, Murtagh could decipher shapes and colours that had not been there before. Behind his ever present wall, he felt something bigger than him, bigger than _anything_, existing all around him. It was not a threat - it wasn't trying to get in. It was trying to keep things _out_ and it was the same thing that kept Lia from him.

Staring up into the sky in his mind, there were no clouds, and the only colour was a strange orange, tinged with touches of pink - like a sunset - only it _was_ no sunset. It was…the _thing_. The force, the spell, whatever it was. And it wasn't just in the sky, it was in the air around him. The colour surrounded him, but proved no threat. This thing, this power, existed all around him. It wasn't really inside his head, it was everywhere else. But about one thing, he was sure - _here_, was where it kept Lia at bay.

But it was not entirely successful, for he could still _feel _her. That meant that somewhere, there was a flaw, a fault, a crack in this strange, multihued blanket. And if his mind had somehow penetrated the power, then it made sense that the glitch would be within _him_.

Almost an hour of searching passed. After staring hard in every given direction, Murtagh was close to giving up and slipping somewhere further within himself, where even his wall was no longer in sight. Only then did he see the faint shimmer in the air. It did not lie far from where he stood - existing at eye level, close to the perimeter of the wall. The stillness in the air had only been distorted for a second, but it had been enough.

Keeping his eyes on the area, he walked towards it, unblinking, afraid that he would lose it if he tried. Only when the small area of hazy space was close was enough to touch, did he stop and try. When his hands passed through it, he felt nothing. But as he leaned his face closer and squinted his eyes, he could see it. It was tiny - a small hole, maybe half a centimetre in diameter, but it was the source of the haze. And from it, he could feel her.

Holding his hands either side of it, he turned his head to the side and pressed his ear against it - hoping that he could possibly hear her. Nothing. Then, closing one eye, he tried to peek through the hole, in an attempt to see her. In both instances, he had failed to make any progress. Glaring at the hole, he cursed and then gazed at his hand, upon Lia's face.

_Any ideas? _he asked her with a sigh, knowing full well that she could not hear him nor respond.

Then, something exploded from the hole, knocking him back to his feet, gasping - but not form fear, or pain or anger- but from intimate pleasure. From wherever she was, she had sent him _that_.

Shakily, he began to laugh. Rising back to his feet, he closed his eyes and conjured up every mental image that could be associated with the sensation. Every single one of them made the blood boil in his veins, and brought him a need so intense that he groaned. Eyes springing open, he licked his lips and reached to the dagger that was at his side and grinned.

"Damn it woman, you certainly know how to give a man incentive to go on," he said aloud.

Kissing his imprinted palm, he strode towards the hole, pulled back his dagger and stabbed at it. The same force that surrounded him tried to keep his blade away, but with gritted teeth and a flaring of his palm, he roared and fought it.

Throwing all his weight behind the manoeuvre, he pushed the blade as hard as he could. Both fists wrapped around the hilt, his feet dug into the ground, keeping the pressure in place and pushing him forward. For every ounce of progress that he made, he was pushed back.

Staggering back, he stared at his red hands. Panting from the effort, he ran his tongue across his dry lips and tasted the sweat from his exertion. There was something missing. He was doing it right, he had the will, he had the magic inside him, but there was something else that would help him. He did not know what it was, but instinct whispered the answer, like words being carried on a gentle breeze.

Wrapping a fist around the blade with his unmarked palm, he then pulled the dagger out, slicing deep and drawing blood. The blade dripped with red and seeped from his hand.

"I give you my blood," he muttered to the dark hole. "Now _you _give me my _woman_," he growled.

Thrusting the bloodied blade with all his might, he rammed it in with all the force that he could muster, and this time, the hole welcomed the onslaught. When the dagger was hilt deep, Murtagh twisted it, enlarging the hole, and then slashed at the open air- over and over again, like a mad man. Sometimes he caught himself, but he didn't care - with every cut, every new opening, the hole grew larger, wider and he was beginning to see the other side.

Not only could he see, but he could feel. It wasn't much, but it was more than he could have hoped. There was only darkness, but it was a darkness with shadows that moved - these shadows were her thoughts, images in her mind. And from the darkness, he could hear murmurs - her voice as she spoke words in her mind. It was still vague, but it was a welcome improvement.

When his arm could repeat the motion no longer, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. Breathing heavily, he waited for any sign that the force would try and seal itself. It did not. On the contrary, the edges of the damaged area began to glow in gold and…began to expand.

Staring in disbelief, Murtagh glanced from his hand, to his knife, to the hole and then cocked a brow, releasing a jet of air from his lips in baffled acceptable.

_I did it…I think? _he decided to inform Lia.

Her thoughts seemed to stop in response to his words. That seemed like a positive response. As the edges of the hole begin to slowly and steadily deteriorate outwards, he knew that he had done all that he could and the rest was up to the magic.

Returning to his body, he inhaled deeply and removed one arm from the bath, examining his hand. There was no cut, no sign of it nor any trace of blood. The deed had only been performed in his mind, but it had been enough.

Tilting his head back over the edge, he let his arm splash back into the water and closed his eyes once more. Watching the moving shapes and listening to the incoherent words, he smiled, knowing that soon, they would make sense.

Sending her a few choice enjoyable sensations of his own, he grinned and hoped that she would enjoy them as much as he had.

From the high walls that surrounded the castle, the son of Ajihad saw a movement down below. It was not his place to notice such things, only to chant - but after the first few hours, his mind always began to wander.

It was too easy to keep his lips mumbling the same stream of words over and over again. So much so, that his mind could travel elsewhere. Back home, to his past, to his childhood, to the last confrontation he had with his father.

The gates creaked open, tearing him from his introversion, and he gazed down to see two cloaked figured stalking side by side into the night. The only suspicious thing about them was their attire - otherwise, they walked down the empty road slowly, confidently, glancing down every alleyway that they passed. Their behaviour was unusual, however if they had emerged from the castle, they posed no threat.

No threat from within the castle… The Twins resided in the castle, and according to the fierce young woman he had met, _they _had been the ones that had brought his fathers end. Holding his head high, he reminded himself that this loss meant little to him.

How long now had he been without a father figure? Without any form of family? Five years? He had done what he had to, for a cause that he believed. It was no fault of his that he was blessed, that his dreams differed from that of his father, that his father was so disgusted with his son's choice, that he had him banished.

He had accepted the treatment with honour, and never paused to undo what he had done. When he was a child, he had been taught to believe that every man had a path, a destiny. This was his. His father never understood and now, he never would.

A bitterness overwhelmed him. Not because the man was dead, but because now, all opportunities were lost. Opportunities for what? Anything. Everything. He would never be able to meet him by chance and brag about all that he had achieved. The good he had done, the lives he had saved…

But he would also never be able to hide from him all the other things that he had done…seen…and inadvertently played a part in. Had he played a part in his father's death? By holding up this charm, had he kept those safe inside. Safe enough to plot murder.

He had hated his father. If he had ever loved the man, he had forgotten what it felt like, or why. But to kill him? To harbour the urge to harm the man? Never. The man may have been many things to many people, but he was still his father. His flesh and blood - his only living parent. No, he ad never wished the man suffering. All he had ever wished for was…that his father would accept him. It was too late. What was done was done, what was said was said, and the man had died with the one last memory of his son. The day that he left.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his lips paused between two of the more crucial words of the incantation. It was a significant mistake - enough to make a difference. He glanced left and then right. No one had noticed the small lapse. In truth, after years and years, they were all growing tired of their role.

They were the chosen ones and had been since the beginning. What sounded like an important job, was in fact tedious and tiring. _The Shield_ - it was an impressive name, and wrought fear in the hears of those who contemplated defying the King. But in all honesty, they were nothing but a group of exceedingly bored men, naturally gifted with magical powers, entrusted with a sacred incantation and taught spells of the more lethal kind to deal with those that stood in their way. Stripped of these things, they were normal men, with normal needs and their job was losing appeal. Unfortunately, leaving was not so easy. In fact, it bordered on impossible.

There was the small matter of their contract of employment, where they had signed their names and sworn loyalty and allegiance to the King. That had of course been expected. What _hadn't _been expected, were the security measures that had been taken, to ensure that they kept certain aspects of their employment to themselves. Treachery was unwise.

Only one had ever tried to sell the ancient words, to a man who had attempted to plot the assassination of the King. The member of The Shield had died instantly, upon opening his mouth to utter the words. And the stranger had been found, tortured and then fed to the King's dragon, as an example to all traitors to the realm.

Drawing his thoughts away from the two strange men, his job and his father, he thought of the girl. Why had he not simply killed her? He could have done it so easily. Never mind the others that she swore would spread the word of his identity - they would never have gotten far.

Not one of them would have been a match for his higher training in spells, regardless of what powers they may or may not have possessed. They would never have stood a chance and yet, he let them live, and agreed to help the girl in what little way he could. And he had even agreed to meet with her _again_. _Why_?

Fascination and intrigue. The girl had gone to great lengths to talk to him, to win his attention and to persuade him. There was also the part where, regardless of his confidence, he _did _wonder if there was the miniscule possibility, that her threat _would_ have proven to be correct. He did not like to think it, but given _who_ he was, it did not do well to play with fire.

Then, there was her mission. It had nothing to do with him and yet, he felt that it was. He was in no mood to connect any of these feelings to his father. He was in no state to consider that he may want revenge. And it would be an easy revenge indeed if his hands remained unstained.

For the moment, he considered the girl's determination, and was reminded of his own, many years before. He would help her. He was curious to see exactly how she planned to go, to save this young man, that she was so desperate to find. He was also curious to see whether she would actually succeed. Yes, it was out of curiosity and self preservation. _Nothing_ to do with his father at all.

Staring over the tops of the building, he mumbled the words faster, counting the lights in each and every window and thought of a nice, warm bed and a nice, warm female by his side.

"Love is a silly word really," Lia began, cringing a little at saying the word out loud.

Erika fought back a smile, but nodded understandingly. It _was_ a very silly word…and notion.

"I suppose that when I think of the word _love_, I always imagine some virgin milkmaid and some poor farmer boy," she said with a grin and a quick glance at Ella. "I think of unrealistic promises, chaste kisses and then, the whole concept of _ugh_," she shuddered at the next part. "_Making love_."

"Oh _my_," Erika chuckled. "In this much, I can share your distaste. It is all too _innocent_, too…_surreal_. Such things are easily attainable, but _never _last. The world we live in, leaves no room for such childish innocence. Make love _indeed_!"

"Indeed," Lia choked and then cleared her throat. "But what I am _trying _to say, is that whereas I undoubtedly _do_ love him, that is _not _what drives me. It is more. So much, _much_ more. And as your circumstances may have landed you in a position, where things lay out of your control. As had mine - or should I say… _ours_."

From no where, a sensation so inappropriate hit her, that her eyelids flickered and her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, until she could taste blood. Unhinging her jaw and licking the single red bead from her lips, she breathed deeply and attempted to wipe the impossibly huge smile from her face. Erika ducked her head and looked up into Lia's face, that was bent low, and concealed in the dark curtain of her hair.

"What is the _matter _with you?" she asked.

Lia looked up, and swept her hair away from her face, looking a tad breathless. Her lips curved at the corners and her cheeks were flushed.

"Where _was_ I?" she asked the thin air to her right.

Presenting an act ofmomentary forgetfulness, she both mentally thanked and rebuked her partner for his welcome, yet slightly _inconvenient_ interruption.

"Things that were out of your control?" Erika prompted lazily.

"Yes," Lia smiled, and then stared towards the burning fire in the corner. "You know Erika, as much as I hate to admit this, and believe you me, I really do. You and I… we have at least _one_ thing in common."

Glancing up at the ceiling, Erika licked her lips hungrily. "Make that _two_."

Lia fired her a glare, knowing a reference to her fellow warrior when she saw one, and continued as if she hadn't heard a thing.

"The _one _thing that we have in common, is our mutual _distrust _of people. I do not know you, but I see the way that you look at people, the way that you handle them. Do not seek to feed me dung about people being scared and keeping their distance. Where that may be _partially_ true- although heaven knows _why_ - _you_ keep that distance for _yourself_.

I understand the look in your eyes, for I have carried it for many a year. You find safety in solitude. No one can hurt you, and you cannot hurt them. The only person that you can rely on is yourself, the only person that you have to answer to is yourself. There is no winning of approval, no chance of being misguided, used, abused or abandoned.

Being alone is better for some of us - makes our lives easier. I was there for a long time, and I can tell you that I had _no_ intention of becoming this way, but I did. It happened slowly, yet obviously. So obviously, that I did not even see it. And when I finally noticed what had happened to me, to _us_, it was too late to make it all go away. Except that by then, I didn't want it to."

Casting Erika a quick glance, Lia looked for signs of pity, mockery or derision. The girl's face was blank, her green eyes piercing, compelling her to go on.

"We…" Lia hesitated, not wanting to divulge that which was too private. "We did not even like each other at first. We were opposites, but the same. Then, we underwent some…interesting scenarios…and we at least learned to respect one another. We were not friends, you must understand - we merely _tolerated_ one another.

Soon after, we were given a gift and through this gift - we were forced and thrown together. It was not something that we asked for, it was thrust upon us, and we could do nothing but accept it. However, strangely enough, I do not feel that the bond we share can be blamed for what happened between us. The bond, we simply grew to live with. It was the constant togetherness, working together, having to plan and think together that did the rest.

We were so used to working alone, we never thought that working with another was ever an option. There was so much that we achieved and accomplished, and it soon became clear that we were natural partners. To say we liked each other even at _this _point, would have been a far stretch from the truth. But even as mere acquaintances, we had shared more than the closest of friends. And then, there was the connection itself.

How can I explain what it feels like, without sounding positively _nauseating_?" she wondered.

"Imagine two bodies, if you will. Two bodies, where the organs are removed from each and their brains are cut in half."

"How _lovely_," Erika muttered sarcastically.

Lia's gave a brief apologetic smile for the interesting analogy. "You see, over time, our bodies and minds were joined in such a way, that we became a part of each other. Murtagh is _inside _me - not just in mind, but in _body_. To take any of it away, it like losing a limb."

"But people lose limbs all the time," Erika argued. "_And_ they _survive_."

"Alright, _not _a limb," Lia amended. "A _vital _organ. Let's say, for instance…"

Erika snorted. "I see what's coming."

"A _heart_?" Lia said through a toothy smile.

"I _knew_ it!" the strange girl sniggered to herself. "But yes, _alright_, I can see how it is nigh impossible to survive without one of _those_. Consider your point made."

Lia tapped her chest meaningfully. "Then, you can understand how I need mine _back_?"

Sparing several seconds to mull over all that had been said, Erika's lips puckered and she wagged a shameful finger towards the warrior before her.

"It is not that I _doubt _your words, but I still do not see why you cannot simply let the bastard _go_. Hearts are broken _all_ the time. Empty spaces can always be refilled. This bond you refer to… very well, you appear to be connected in _unhealthy_ ways - but after time, you _would_ get over it. Therefore, _my _conclusion is that you are simply too _stubborn _to let go, too scared _or_, you have a death wish," Erika finished, folding her arms and waiting for the argument.

Lia shrugged and nodded. Erika could only blink a few times and then her jaw unhinged, and her mouth hung open for an immeasurable moment.

"You mean to tell me that you're _not _going to _argue_?" she spluttered.

Lia shrugged again. "You observe _well_. Who am _I_ to argue with the truth?"

"_Th_ -" she stuttered. "_That_ is your reason for saving him?!"

Laughing, Lia reached out to Ella, stroking the hair of her sleeping friend, and then smiled at the girl, that stared at her in utter bewilderment.

"And why _not_?" Lia replied. "It is what I want. I want him _within _me, I do not _want_ to let him go. Having him inside me, means more to me than life itself. His friendship, his partnership and his love _are_ my life. Without him, there is little reason for me to exist. But even if that was _not_ the case, we have helped each other much, and more than anything, he is a worthy friend. He would do the same for me."

"You do not know that," Erika countered.

"Yes, I _do_," Lia corrected her with a stern look. "And so would _she_," she added, with a dip of her head towards her friend.

"_She_ might," the girl agreed, making a strange noise at the back of her throat. "But then again, _she_ is _stupid_."

"No," Lia disagreed. "She is a _friend,_ and _that _is what friends _do_. Just because the concept of friendship and loyalty are beyond _you_, does not mean that such things do not _exist_."

Turning her head away, Erika shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Friendship, loyalty, love…all ridiculously romanticised notions, that lead to _nothing_," she muttered under her breath.

"For some, I suppose that is _true_. In fact, for many, I can guarantee that is an absolute _reality_. As you so eloquently put it, we _do_ live in a very cruel world. But there are _some_ of us who are worth our salt.

I may be a selfish creature, much like yourself - indeed willing to put the lives of _others _at risk to save my love. But as you will come to see, most will do so _willingly,_ and most will have had the chance to change their minds, but they will not. And do you now _why_?"

Erika rolled her head back towards the warrior with a bored, "_Why_?"

"Because people recognise the genuine thing, when they see _it_," Lia grinned. "How often do you think people actually _do_ this?"

"Anyone with any sense of self preservation _wouldn't_," Erika sniffed.

"_Exactly_," Lia concluded. "People will help us, because they want to see what happens next. Regardless of all the stories that we are told, all the disappointments of life, people enjoy a _good _story Erika. And what we are, is a part of a good story, and people will want to know how it ends. Face the facts; whether you like it or _not_, we _will _be remembered.

That means you _too_, you know. You've left your wonderfully safe little niche, and now you are out here, a part of something you never wanted, but you are a part of it anyway. And after this, no matter what happens, you are going to be _infamous_. Now tell me, honestly, that appeals to you, does it not? Being remembered for something other than your nasty little tricks, and the terror that you allegedly inflict upon others?" Lia asked, her voice enticing.

Trying desperately not to look impressed, Erika found that she could lift one shoulder and let it drop back down.

"You assume too _much_," she replied coolly.

"Perhaps," Lia nodded agreeably. "But _you_ admit too _little_."

"Whatever _that_ means," Erika sneered.

Resting her chin in her palm, Lia surveyed the girl through almost pitying eyes.

"You have no concept of what it is to do something for someone else; to perform a selfless deed, or to owe a debt. For example, would it disturb you if I told you that if you were in trouble, even _I_ would come to your rescue?"

Erika barked laughed harshly. "And why on _earth _would you do such a stupid thing? It is not as if _I_ would do the same for _you_!?"

"That's is the difference between you and I," Lia stated seriously. "I owe _you_ Erika. Whatever your reasons for helping me, I am in _your_ debt. And I may thoroughly despise you…but I would put that aside and come to your aid."

"_Ridiculous_," Erika spat.

"Most likely," Lia smiled. "But is scares you. You do not like ties, and yet now, you have two."

The strange girl's eyes bulged. "_Two_?!"

"Ella, of course," Lia said, waving a hand towards her friend. "She is, as you said; young and naïve. But above all, she is _loyal_. She will not forget what you have done for me."

"I do not need your help, your loyalty or anyone's! I owe nothing, and you owe me nothing. I want none of it!" Erika complained.

Smiling sadly, Lia tilted her head to the side. A curtain of her hair tumbled across her face, concealing one eye- leaving the remaining dark orb fixed on the angry subject of their conversation.

"One day, you are going to realise that there are people that are _good_ in this world. Some that will help you, make sacrifices for you, even when there _is_ no debt to pay," Lia stated calmly.

The words tumbled from her lips, like that of a prophecy. With hard eyes, Erika glared at the warrior.

"Such people do not _exist_," she assured her contemptuously.

"We shall see," Lia murmured quietly and then smiled. "And as I have answered _your_ question, I _do_ believe it is _my_ turn."

Arranging herself more comfortably, Erika assumed the pose of the storyteller, whilst Lia lay herself across the floor, propped up on one elbow, and waited for the tale to commence. As she did so, something shifted inside her mind - or to be more precise- _around_ it. Murtagh's emotions became sharper, clearer, and then, she almost thought that she could see something. Undecipherable it may have been, but it was something none the less. And then…

There was a sound - at least she thought it was a sound, and it was coming from _him_. Her fingers grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of her neck in frustration, knowing that he was trying to communicate with her, and that there was no way to understand it. Whatever was happening inside of her head, it was happening at a steady pace. The magic was growing stronger, the gap in the shield of power, was growing wider.

Replacing impatience with contentment, she allowed herself to gain some sense of satisfaction, that whatever the son of Ajihad had done, it had worked. It seemed that the rest was up to them. Clenching her marked palm into a fist, she separated her being in two. One part would listen to the strange girl, whilst the other concentrated on nothing but reaching, seeing and joining with her partner.

"I so very much wish that I could start my story with a delicious _Once Upon A Time_, but it _isn't_ that kind of story, and to be perfectly honest, I don't remember the beginning," Erika sighed angrily, and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

This would be the first time she told her story, or what she could remember. Never had she discussed it with another. The only people that knew, were herself and The Twins. She had never wished to share the tale, and yet, the warrior had shared more than was due.

She had been completely honest, and even though she may have omitted a few details - her answer had been frank. For lack of nothing better to do in these dragging hours, Erika decided that she would follow suit. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to continue.

In an almost dreamlike state, Scarlet walked from the bedroom, rubbing at her head as if she had been struck. There was no pain, nor any signs of any physical attack whatsoever. Strangely, she could not remember what she had done all day. She finally decided that her job had become such a monogamous task, that each client simply blended into the next, making every passing moment more insignificant than the last.

Walking down the hallway towards the lobby, she saw that all the other girls were there, lounging around, waiting for the next stumbling drunk to enter and have their way with them. Standing with her back against the large desk at the front, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and turned to see her Mistress smiling down at her warmly.

"Scarlett, that young man came in here. The cripple. You must have given him one bloody good ride. He came back here with what looked like all the coin he had in the world. He wants you to meet him at the Inn. He paid extra to keep you for the night, so you go to him, and you make sure he comes back again. Alright?" the woman said, pointing to the door.

The other girls gave her looks, ranging from entertained to pure jealousy. Scarlet ignored their questioning eyes, and headed for the door. The Inn was not a far walk away and she could make it before the cold reached her bones. Rubbing her arms, she took up a fast pace, and started on her way. Her previous sense of unknown loss was now cast aside, in favour of thinking of the cripple. What _was_ she going to _do_ with him?

This wasn't the first time that she had bedded him. He had been a regular for a month at least. She had only satisfied his needs three times, but after the first instance, she had noticed something unhealthy about the way in which he performed. Most men were rough, quick and sometimes painful - treating her like an object. In many ways, she preferred it that way - it was over quickly, and then they were out the door.

Sure enough, the cripple had began like all the others, but then, he had taken to _talking _to her. As if she actually _cared_! He had asked her questions. Personal questions and completely irrelevant questions that had nothing to do with anything. She answered with endless lies of course, but he always believed every word. And then, only after conversation, would he bed her; if it could even be referred to as such.

It would be slow, tender and drawn out. He made the act seem intimate somehow, and this was _not_ an arrangement that she was used to, nor entirely happy with. Business was _business_. She would do what she had to, to earn her coin and keep the roof over her head, but she would _have_ to make one thing clear. That she had _no _interest in him.

Handsome as he was, he was still a _cripple, _and what future would she have with such a man? Especially a poor cripple, who spent every last penny in the name of lifting up her skirt. Now, if he had been rich, handsome and whole, she _may_ have considered any possible upcoming advances. But as he only fitted the _one_ criteria, she would have to set the record straight. _Or_, she would play along with his silly little fantasy, until his every coin was spent. Deciding that option number two was the easiest way out, she smiled and marched faster onward.

It was beginning to snow. Already, the ground was covered in a fine layer of white. Keeping her head down, she started to run. Her advance was stopped, as two hands grabbed her by the shoulders and she yelped in fear.

"_Shhhh_, my child. Do not be afraid," a silky voice reassured her soothingly.

The face of the owner was concealed by a black hood, as was the rest of him. Another stood by his side, dressed in a matching cloak.

Behind them, loitering restlessly and looking impatient and confused, were a few faces that she recognised; drunks, vagrants, independent whores, and such that plagued the streets during the night.

"The King wishes to show great kindness to his people. As we speak, a feast is being prepared for the less _fortunate_ residents of this wonderful city. Will you not join us?" the tempting voice asked.

"I -" she began and then stopped.

How did one refuse the King? How could she possibly refuse their ruler, in favour of her duties as a whore. There was no way that she could refuse. Her mistress would understand - she would have to.

"Yes, of course sir," she bowed. "Could I at least inform my Mistress of my whereabouts?" she dared to ask.

"There will be no need," the voice replied with a ring of promise, that made her believe that there really _was_ no need.

Ushered by a gloved hand toward the others, they all exchanged wary glances, but dared not utter a word.

"Follow us," two velvety voices instructed.

Silently, they followed.

Beside the large, front glass windows, Hepzibah sat on a small stool, working silently by candle light. Albert continued to snore. Occasionally, she shot him a sour look, but focused her attention to her task at hand, which involved crushing dried herbs into a fine powder, using a pestle and mortar.

Too much had happened on this day. There were too many thoughts clogging up her mind, and this menial task allowed her to do something constructive, whilst she fought to reach a state fit enough for sleep.

Hours had passed, and she was feeling the first twinges of fatigue, when she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The room suddenly felt icy cold, and when she exhaled, her breath came out in a puff of white. Blowing out the candle, she emptied her hands and hunkered down low. Something was coming. Something evil.

With her two eyes peering up just enough to look out into the night, she felt the presence grow closer, until she saw the parade pass her by. Two men robed in black, looking both ways, searching for prying eyes, and a strange collection of people followed them. She did not know who or what led the group, but she knew that they would not take kindly to their actions being witnessed.

As if they had read her thoughts, they stopped in their tracks, standing perfectly still, and then, as one, their heads turned towards her. Dropping down, she stretched herself across the floor and pressed herself against the wall, beneath the windowsill.

Even through the glass, she could hear their approaching steps. Two long shadows crept across the floor, as they stood on the other side of the glass, peering inside. Shutting her lids hard, she held her breath and emptied her thoughts. The two, sinister shadows lingered for a few moments longer and then, they began to recede.

Purple in the face, Hepzibah did not take a breath, until she could hear the continuing march of many feet. Shuddering on the floor, she took several deep, calming breaths and then sat herself up.

"What the bloody hell have I gotten myself into," she muttered, rubbing a nervous hand across her face.

Albert broke his rhythmic snores with an obscenely loud snort. She decided to laugh, knowing that if she did not find humour in something, she was likely to simply run and hide.

This easy life that she had chosen for the past ten years hadn't turned out how she had planned. Not at all. Already angry, and now slightly shaken, Hepzibah decided that she could put it off no longer. Her brain could torment her all it liked, but her body needed to rest.

Heading past her husband, she moved to the door that resided in the wall behind the front desk. Climbing the small flight of stairs, she headed to the single bedroom. Too tired to undress, she collapsed upon the large bed and slipped into a troubled slumber.

Wiping his mouth with the back of the hand, the cripple moved his eyes to the entrance. Still no sign of her. The barman was already watching him closely, with a look of pity that he had grown accustomed to. Grown accustomed to and _despised_.

He shoved his empty jug towards the staring man. "Give me another."

The man smiled; it was still a disgustingly _pitying_ smile.

"I think you have had _enough,_ lad," he said, with a deliberate glance at the slightly swaying man.

"_Another_," the cripple demanded angrily, and brought out his coin pouch, and pushed it towards the man.

Interestingly, the barman opened the pouch and peered inside, scrunching his eyes, and then giving it a good shake. Very few chinks resounded from within. With a throaty chuckled, he tossed the bag back across the counter.

"Tell me there is more?" he asked, with mocking eyes.

"There is," the cripple replied. "At the whore house."

"_Ah_ lad," the barman shook his head. "Be thankful that I'm not as big a bastard as I look. I shan't be the one to take the last of your money, and leave you on the streets. And you should watch out for those whores, because unlike the _rest_ of us swine, they won't give a _damn_."

The cripple gazed at the door once more, with a hard set of his jaw.

"She was different," he said, though he now sounded uncertain.

"_Lad_…" the barman continued, but then, after careful assessment, he shook his head and walked away.

Keeping his eyes trained on the door, the cripple did not wish to see the look on the retreating man's face, nor hear the rest of what was to be said. He knew it all anyway, it was just nice to pretend that things were different. Things _would_ have been different if…

Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned away from the door, rested an elbow on the counter and covered his eyes with one hand. The fingers of his free hand dug into his thigh - his thigh that had next to no feeling whatsoever. "_It'll have to come off_…" the words echoed in the back of his mind.

"_No_," he whispered…

He had treated it as best as he could. It had to last longer, it _had_ to. Already he could not travel without the use of a stick, leaning heavily against it, and limping most pathetically without it. The pain was strong, but he fought it every day. _I have lost my dignity and pride, but I will not lose my leg_, he vowed.

It was an empty promise. He knew. He could feel it. The infection had travelled too far, he was becoming numb and some traces remained in the would. There would be no recovering from it. The muscles in his thigh had been ripped and torn, the blade that had done it had buried too deep.

Unwilling to remember, but plagued by the night that he had suffered the attack, he ground his teeth and thought of the girl that had been the source of his trouble. That was the thing about troubles…they usually both started and ended with a _girl_.

Maybe Scarlet was no different? With a defeated sigh, he was thankful that he had _some_ coin left to his name. Not a lot, but enough to shelter him for the night. The whore hadn't fulfilled her duties, therefore, he would claim his money back. Carefully shuffling from the stool and almost falling, he groped for his stick.

"A room?" he asked the barman.

"Upstairs and first on the left. It's not my finest, but it'll do. You can pay me in the morning," he added kindly.

The cripple scowled and thrust several coins in the man's direction. How sick he was of both charity, and people's disgusted sneers at his uselessness. Climbing the stairs with the dignity of a hobbling man, he made it to his room, slammed the door shut and threw away his stick.

Awkwardly clambering into the single bed, he closed his eyes and thought about what he usually thought about…_revenge_. Morning would come, and then night. And then, he would go to the Tavern, and find out exactly why he had been refused his _only_ means of pleasure.

"I was eight years old when they found me. I was by the waterfall, almost lost in a blanket of thick snow. Wrapped around me was a blanket and I was alone. I don't remember how I had reached this place, or who had travelled with me. Someone must have accompanied me, for I was only a child, but I could remember nothing.

It was cold and I cried. My sobs caught the attention of the guards that manned the entrance at the time. Back then, the area was more carefully monitored, and when they saw me, they sent others to collect me.

Of course, The Varden _being_ The Varden, trusted _no one_. Not even a _child,_ and therefore, I was handed over to one of The Twins. In the beginning, their interrogation was almost friendly. They spoke sweetly to me, asked me various questions in the kindest manner imaginable - but they were quick to grow frustrated, when I was unable to answer a thing.

I was healthy and alive, but my mind was one big, empty space. That in itself could have been put down to shock, but when the Twin sought to probe my mind - I," she laughed. "I moved out of his reach and materialised across the other side of the room. And not just once - _repeatedly_. I had no control over it whatsoever. It was instinctive. Each time he tried to pin me down, I moved. When they shouted at me to stop, I couldn't. That was the first time that I discovered the speed and there was no controlling it.

My legs were moving, but so quickly, that I could barely feel the movement. They acted independent of the rest of me. I wished for nothing than to be in a warm bed, but the rest of me sought to warn me of something. Strange how even instincts can bring about your downfall. They may have left me alone, had I not performed the impossible in front of their very eyes. Mind you," she added with a sly smile. "Looking back at it, the look on his faces was simply _priceless_."

Despite the tension of the story, Lia felt her lips twitch and then nodded for the girl to continue. Erika's eyes slowly drifted out of focus and her voice became cold.

"It took me almost three years to reach that warm bed," she stated bitterly. "After our little game of _catch me if you can_, it took _eight_ men to capture me. Predicting where I would next appear, they grabbed me and bound me. I begged them to set me free, proclaimed my innocence - but they were frightened of me. Frightened, but not _stupid_.

They saw the obvious advantage to the situation. My impressionable youth for one thing - whatever evil I had been taught, could be removed and replaced by their interpretation of good. It was all a lot of nonsense of course. They simply craved my ability, and hoped to use it to their advantage. All that aside, I was too much for any normal human or dwarf to handle, and therefore, put in the care of Du Vrangr Gata.

Strength alone could not hold me in place, only magic. And so, for several years, I was under constant supervision of The Twins. I was their property. They had made their claim on me and nobody argued with them. It made perfect sense to leave all things unexplainable to those that saw it every day. The only thing was, they hadn't ever seen anything quite like _me_…

For almost three years, I was locked in the dungeons. I was provided with a bed, clean clothes and means to maintain personal hygiene- but I was chained to the wall at all times. The only people who had the keys to that chain, were _them,_ and that chain stayed on at _all_ times," Erika said in a distant voice.

Without looking down, she rolled up the sleeves of her dress and presented Lia with a view of her wrists. Around each one, was a thick, red scar. Lia feigned disinterest, but her stomach felt weak and she could not say a word. Pushing her sleeves back down, Erika's expression turned thoughtful.

"Tell me Lia. Have you ever undergone any surgery?"

Lia shook her head. "Mercifully, the most I have endured have been stitches. But I can promise you that there have been plenty of _those_."

Her eyes automatically looked up towards her forehead, where a fine, jagged black line was still etched into her skin, and the stitches were still visible. An addition to her collection, bestowed upon her by Murtagh. She grinned and then returned her attention to the girl.

"And I imagine that _hurt_, did it not?" Erika asked airily. "A small needle repeatedly stabbing into your skin must have caused you some _pain_?"

Lia shrugged. "It was nothing."

"Well warrior, the difference between stitches and surgery, is that surgery is best performed when the subject is _unconscious_. And that was where _more _problems began to arise."

Remembering what the strange girl had said before, Lia stiffened.

"You…you can't?" she started to ask.

"No," Erika smiled, but it did not touch her eyes. "I cannot sleep. I cannot lose consciousness. Even if you stood here before me, beating me around the head with all your might - I suppose I may very well just _die_, but I would _not_ lose consciousness."

"Hmmm," Lia mused. "Would you care to _test_ that theory?"

"Another time, perhaps?" Erika grinned, and then turned serious once more. "I did not _need_ surgery; I never _have_ done. I was a picture of health - but they _insisted_ that something was wrong with me. Something was inside of me, and they needed to find it, so that they could make me _better _again.

I was a child, I was in their care - it may not have been the most hospitable treatment, but they were _adults, _and what they told me, I _believed_. They held me under the pretence that I was ill, and I wanted them to rid me of whatever it was, that kept me down there. But they couldn't find it, and they tried, over and over again.

They cut me open. _Every _part of me. That's the wonderful thing about magic - it can keep a person alive, whilst he or she is being dissected, limb from limb, organ by organ. Of course it all works more effectively, if the subject involved can't _see_ what's being done to them. But I did...

That first time, I screamed and screamed. They had sliced open my stomach and began to lift out my intestines, which dangled festooning from their pale fingers. It was hardly the prettiest picture, and certainly nothing that _anyone_ should ever have to see - let alone a child."

Keeping her face carefully impassive, Lia kept the sympathy that was threatening to surface at bay, by remembering how much she disliked the girl. It helped, but not much. Ignoring it all, she only listened.

"My cries were short lived", the strange girl stated offhandedly. "They were quick to beat me into silence. As sedatives were useless, violence was their only available tool. They only hit me the once, but it was enough. When my sobs died down to the barest of whimpers, they realised that the only way to keep me calm, was to blindfold me. They provided me with means to dull the pain, but it was still there.

The pain was never intense, but the things that I _couldn't_ see made it worse. In those concealed moments, my imagination would run wild. Things were happening to every part of me, even my head, and the only thing that kept me from crying out, was that they were trying to find "_it_", and it would be over soon.

On the day of my eleventh birthday, it ended. After years of "_analysis_," they realised that there was nothing _to,_ find and they chose to change their methods of practice. No longer were they the ones who cut me up. They were the ones who spoke softly to me, nurturing me with kind words and lies. They were all that I knew, and as for trusting them? They were all that I had.

Unlocking the manacles from my wrists, they ordered me to follow them, and I did - at a very slow and human pace. And from there on, I was introduced to a new way of life, as a member of the magical faction. Naturally, I could never forget the things that I had endured, but I was now in a new environment, and things were becoming interesting. Instead of being sliced, prodded and questioned relentlessly, I was being taught new and exciting things.

Free from provocation, my speed fell under my control, and instead of fearing it, I embraced it and enjoyed the freedom that it gave me. I learned spells, incantations, how to manipulate things and how to use my mind, among many other things. My ability to manipulate people was a talent that developed by itself.

People still feared me, you see. I was an odd girl that appeared out of no where, and I could disappear and reappear in the blink of an eye. They didn't like that. They were scared, or jealous - maybe both, and they kept their distance from me. Still young and curious, I was overjoyed that so many people surrounded me, but disheartened that so many shrank away; pathetic weaklings that they were. So, I began to corner them, one by one, an ask them questions.

I had no practice with civil conversations, so I asked things that people would not normally ask. Personal things, secret things, private things…and they answered. All of them. They spilled their guts to me, until every little dirty secret in the place was laid bare.

Being eleven years old, learning about affairs and where people's loyalties lay, meant nothing to me - it was all rather boring to hear. I was a child, and out in the world, and more than anything- I wanted _things_.

My life before all this meant nothing - whatever parents I may or may not have had, I remembered nothing of their teachings, and The Twins were hardly what I would have called responsible adults. Therefore, my manners were somewhat…_lacking_," she admitted with a nip to her lower lip and eyes that sparkled with mischief.

Lia snorted a laugh, "They still _are_."

Gasping theatrically, Erika threw her head to the side with a dramatic huff of annoyance.

"Who needs manners?" Lia cooed sarcastically.

Erika replied to that statement with an elegant rise of her middle finger. Lia laughed, and then beckoned her to continue.

"It was easy really. If I saw something that I liked, I got it. If I wanted something done for me, it was done. They kept talking of the dwarf king and the leader of the Varden, but I didn't see the people doing _half_ as much for _them_, as they did for _me_.

Inevitably, it was only a matter of time, before The Twins heard tales of my new ability. And whilst their irritation was flared by _another_ unexplainable power, they were overjoyed and soon after, they knew _everything_. All the goings on, in every corner of our seemingly safe little mountain home.

They encouraged me to use my talent, to root out those that were unfaithful, and I did. My talents became very useful to the Varden, and I began to like the way that people shied away from me, the way they left me alone, and I began to realise what a weak and pathetic bunch they all really were. From then on, the Varden was a fitting home. I could have anything I wanted, through fearful respect. And as I grew, I developed both mentally and physically.

I am not modest Lia, I know that I am beyond beautiful. Even without my influences, men came to me and I bedded them all from a very young age. You see Lia, I am the _perfect_ woman. And it is both my intimidation and appearance that draws them to me. Of course I told the hideous ones to go and crawl back under whatever rock that they came from, but I never say no to the pretty ones. _You _should know _that_," she reminded, her with a sultry smile and a battering of her lids.

Scowling hard, Lia moved her eyes aside.

"Yes, I am _well_ aware of your mission. Do not think that I have _forgotten_ it. And you would do _well_ to remember that it is a _lost _cause," she snarled.

"You really _should _control your temper a little better, " Erika suggested. "_Honestly_ woman, it would _almost _seem as though you are _jealous_."

"Of _what_?" Lia spat.

Gesturing to her glorious physique, Erika sighed a long note, as if any demonstration other than her physical being, would be thoroughly pointless.

"_Lia_," she said the name in a condescending, superior manner. "I am _not_ saying that you are ugly as _sin_. Your face is actually quite _lovely_ - but you are just too…_too_?"

Grabbing the hilt of her sword, Lia narrowed her eyes. "_Say _it," she threatened angrily.

Once more, Erika could only point to her opponent in an obvious manner and shake her head sadly. It wasn't a sad gesture - it was _smug_, and it caused Lia's teeth to slam together.

"What will you do when the little boy grows up?" Erika asked sweetly. "One day, he will want a _real_ woman. Not some girl prancing around in men's clothing, smelling like a man and talking like a man. He will grow out of this silly warrior business and wish to settle down, retire to a less hazardous means of life. And who do you think he will be more likely to chose? A girl like you, or a girl like _me_?"

Brows shooting up in surprise, Lia realised that the girl was asking a serious question. Choking on nothing, she burst into a wave of laughter, causing her to roll onto her back and clutch at her chest.

_Murtagh! _She cried out between laughs

_Murtagh, you are missing rare moments of pure comedy!_

There was no reply, but there was a silence in the strange noises, that at least showed that he had heard something. Swallowing back another fit of giggles, she was able to face the furious looking girl once more. But she was unable to take her seriously in the least.

"You want to laugh about it? Well then laugh like a _fool_!" Erika snapped. "Delude yourself! But he _will_ pick me, and do you know what? I don't even intend to _stay _with him! I will _use_ him, break his heart, and then, you will regret the day that you _ever_ asked for my help!"

"No, no, _no_," Lia chuckled. "_Please_ don't leave him on _my _account! I'm sure that if you did, it would ruin his…" she took a deep breath, before blurting out, "_Retirement!_" and then collapsed into a quivering, laughing heap all over again.

Swishing an arrogant hand before her, Erika's lips pressed together, into a thin, petulant line.

"Enough of this nonsense," she said. "I am bored of talking to you now, and you are no longer _fit_ for conversation."

Lia's sniggers subsided into random snorts of amusement, but she said no more, and the room became quiet. However, despite the annoyance of the strange girl, it was not an uncomfortable one. They had said much, exchanged much, and despite the omnipresent loathing between them both - being together seemed a little easier.

Erika, refusing to dirty her clothes, remained sat up. Lia, more able to meditate in her current, almost relaxed state, found that she could now do so. Feeling her senses and awareness begin to heighten, she could hone in on anything and everything - but mostly him. _Always_ him.

Using her concentration and focus in the way a miner uses a pick axe, Lia began to chip away at what remained in between the two of them.

It was working faster now, and more effectively. All Murtagh had to do was lie back and watch. He aided the process by waiting at the ready - continuously pulsing his need for her again and again. It was no chore, it was natural. It was the part of him that always called out for her, just doing it's job.

Large cracks began to form in the darkness. Like the way the ground begins to break at the start of an earthquake, lines appeared, and then tore their way in various directions. Then, one by one, outlined sections began to wobble, and then, they started to fall.

Lia and himself were being kept apart by what looked like a giant puzzle, where the pieces were being removed, and as each piece dissolved into nothing; he could see glimpses of the other side. Excitement brewed within him and running forward in his minds form, he urged the pieces to fall faster, finding edges with his bare hands and then lifting them free.

There was something other than the strange magic helping him here. It was her. Her need for him made his task easier - weakened the hold of the spell. Tearing faster, he worked harder, until it was gone - _all _gone. Gone, except for what looked and felt like a thick pane of glass.

Whatever it was, gave a view of the other side, but it was blurred - as if looking through a window through the pouring rain. But he could see her, she was standing there with her back to him.

_Lia! Lia turn around! _he called out to her

She turned suddenly, and upon seeing him, ran forward and slammed into the barrier. Tumbling backwards and falling onto her arse, he wanted to be concerned, but he could only laugh, and be glad that she was there.

Seeing and sensing his amusement despite his distorted appearance, he could just about make out the lifting of one unappreciative brow. Missing the silliest of her expressions, he laughed again, and this time, she joined him. Walking forward slowly, she rested her hand against the barrier, and he lifted his own and pressed it against where hers lay.

_I… ming…or…u _she said in what sounded like an earnest voice.

Frowning hard, he could guess what she had said, but shook his head and pointed with his free hand at his ears.

_Lia, I can't hear you properly. Not yet _he cursed.

…gger! she cursed back.

He guessed _that_ word with little effort and chuckled. She smiled hugely and drew her face closer. Close enough that he could make out the blurry outline of her face, her eyes, her lips… Shaking his head furiously, he knew what he had to do, or at least had to _try _and do.

_Lia, wherever you are. Stay where you are! _he ordered with all the authority he could assume.

Her brows appeared to furrow and she looked angry, _definitely_ angry.

…_n't…e…upid!…e…omised! _she yelled back in a muffled, furious voice.

He understood _these _words too.

_Lia… _he began, stroking his fingers against where hers should have been _You can't come here. You can't. Promise me that you won't. Promise me that you will not look for me…_

As expected, she handled his words with nothing but respectful acceptance…

…_at's…gest…ile…f…hit…'ve…ver…eard!…I…'nt…are…what…ou…ay!…'m…oming…so…u…etter…et…sed…to it!_

Grinning down at her, he expected, nor wished for anything less. So this was it. He had done all that he could, and she would come for him anyway. As she glared up at him, he could only gaze down at her with an emotion so strong - he was almost glad that she could not see it.

_That's my girl _he said softly

If she did not hear his words, she at least understood his emotions, and saw the acceptance in his eyes. Her own expression softened, as she pressed herself wholly against that which lay between them. He allowed himself a moment to run his eyes over her figure and saw that she too appeared to be doing the same. Pushing himself up against where she stood, their faces seemed inches apart.

…_tagh…ease…ell me. Wh…id…the…ake…ou? _she demanded.

She simply _had_ to ask the _one_ question that he _never_ wished to answer. Giving her a helpless look, he tried to think of a way around it. To answer her, without… _losing_ her. His biggest fear. His greatest nightmare. How _could_ he _tell_ her?

A sound from the real world diverted his attention, and his head whipped around behind him. Something was happening and he could not stay here and ignore whatever it was. Backing away from the barrier, he saw the desperation in her eyes and her hand reach out to him.

_Whe…re…ou…oing?! _she cried out.

_Something is happening, but do not worry. I will return _he promised.

Jamming her hands on her hips and giving him a severe look, he interpreted the pose as, "_You'd better_." He turned his back to her, but turned his head slightly to the side.

_I love you…_

A moment's pause.

_I…ove…ou…oo…_

Hit by an ominous feeling, he pushed it aside. The words were said out of feeling…so why did they sound like a _farewell_? Shuddering involuntarily, he left their private place, comforted by the fact that he could return. He _would _return. He _had _to.

Eyes regaining their focus, Murtagh's eyes flashed around the room and he listened hard. Snatching a towel from the bed, he climbed out of the bath, wrapped it around his middle and hurried to the window. The sound was still there - a low creak - the opening of the gates.

From his great height, he could make out a hoard of people, led by two dark figures through the entrance, and into the castle grounds. Visitors? At this hour? And so many? This was strange. Why would so many be invited and why? Suspicious of their purpose, he relit his candle, moved the mirror and slipped out of the chamber.

Lying ramrod straight, Lia's unfocused eyes were wide, beneath her deep set brows. Ella slept, Erika was distracted by her own thoughts and Lia's state remained unnoticed. She was thankful for it. It was not _their _attention that she sought.

He had left. Spoken a few, choice _ludicrous_ words, and then _left_. His words had provided some entertainment, stumbling from the lips of a frightened whore, but to hear them for herself, and see that he _meant_ them was another thing entirely.

For him to even _suggest_ such a thing, meant something so terrible, that she could not even begin to imagine how _bad_ a situation he was in. And now, he was off gallivanting on his own, without her to help protect him. The only good she could ascertain, was that when she had refused his orders, he had expected it - as he _damn_ well should have - and he felt _pleased_.

He truly _did _fear for her safety, but that would not stop her - would _never _stop her. Maybe all this time alone was making him soft in the head? She made a mental note to remind him of exactly how _capable_ and strong she _was_ - in both ways that he would enjoy, and ways that would sting a little. Forcing a smile, she knew he would secretly, and _not_ so secretly, enjoy it _all_.

But he wouldn't tell her _why_ they kept him. The strangest sensation, was that she had felt a similar tremor in his thoughts before, and then she made the connection. Whatever the reason, it was linked to something that he already knew. Something that he had hidden from her all this time.

Before now, she had respected such things - for despite everything else that they shared, they were still entitled to their own secrets. Everyone was entitled to secrets. But would this one remain secret for long? Did she want to know? She _had_ to know.

No matter what the secret, she would not forget her promise, their bond, or anything else that bound them together. Everyone's past contained some form of darkness, splotches that they wished to be buried deep. Anyone who said otherwise, was lying. She knew _him_, and his past mattered nothing to her now.

Folding her arms and glaring at the final obstacle that lay between them, she began to prod at it. To her surprise, it no longer felt solid - but soft, impressionable and slightly spongy. Aiming a kick at it, she felt her foot sink into the substance, and she could see it pushing out of the other side. Not her foot, but the indentation that it made.

Murtagh was busy doing whatever it was that he had to do. He promised that he would return and she would believe him. In the meantime, there was some fun to be had in these difficult times. Casually walking back twenty paces, Lia spun and ran towards the barrier. Ploughing into it with a shoulder barge, her body sank half way through the substance, and with a finger, she poked hard and it stabbed its way through. There was a small popping noise and a keyhole view to the other side.

_I'm still waiting you bastard. You'd better tell me everything when you get back here, and I mean everything! _she yelled through the tiny hole.

There was a surprised intake of breath and then a hearty laugh. It did not escape her attention that there was no reply to her question, but she was too pleased to be hearing his infectious laugh to be angry with him - _yet_. She had time for one triumphant grin, before the barrier suddenly threw her backwards, sending her tumbling onto her behind once more. Rubbing her rear, she smirked up at the wall.

_Alright mister wall…You want a fight?…I'll give you one…_

_Talking to inanimate objects? My, my, we have been apart for too long _Murtagh said, his voice sounding far away, but clear.

So was his ever present sense of humour.

_Do you mind? _Lia replied coolly _I am trying to have a conversation_

_Without me? _he protested, sounding aghast.

_You really don't want to be involved in this conversation. Unless you want me to be body slamming into you? _she asked, as she began to jog a fair distance away.

His voice still reached her, as she doubled the distance that she had started her run up from before.

_Was that a threat or an offer? _he enquired with a smile that she could hear in his voice.

She could hear and feel his longing, and was pleased to note that their usual banter had lightened his mood. It felt just like another day - except with reduced visibility, and some annoying, rubbery substance blocking anything that could be considered real "_fun_". But this would have to suffice.

_That depends _s he replied, spinning around and racing at full speed _On how bad a boy you've been?_

_Ha_ he laughed, but there was a sinister edge to it _If things to do not happen in my favour, I shall be a very bad boy indeed!_

There was no time to think about his words, the barrier was metres away and all her efforts were being put into slamming through it.

_Then I suppose that I shall have to body slam you accordingly. Again and again and ag -_

Her last repetition of the word was cut off by her impact. This time, her body almost moulded fully into the substance, and she opened both hands, splaying her fingers like claws. Thrusting them forward with all her might, she grabbed fistfuls of the wall, and tore them away. Two larger holes now existed beside the single small one, and once more, she was propelled backwards.

_That sounds like an agreeable arrangement _he acceded.

_Well then _she said, wiping traces of nothing from the seat of her trousers _You'd better not keep me waiting. You don't want me to change my mind, do you?_

_If you do, I'll only take you anyway _he promised her.

_You shan't have me that easily. I promise you that I shall put up a fight _she assured him amusedly, as she was running away once more.

_My dear lady, I am counting on it _he replied.

_Hmmmmm _she thought, grazing her teeth across her lower lip _That does sound more interesting_

_You're not too battered or bruised or tender are you? _he asked in a mildly interested tone.

_No more than usual _she replied, already running back.

_Well you will be _he stated with an air of suggestive promise.

_I should bloody well hope so, and I'm taking you with me _she vowed with a smirk, as she hit the wall once more.

_I will return _he said suddenly, and she felt him slipping away to wherever he was.

_I know _she shouted back, after tearing off two bigger chunks and being bounced back.

Getting up and running back, she planned to keep this up for as long as it took. Grinning, she could already see flashes of images of what he intended to do to her upon his return. Whether it was a diversionary tactic to distract her from his other thoughts, she cared not.

The images presented to her were far too inviting to ignore. She was sure that there would be enough seriousness afterwards - in the meantime, some enjoyment and physical indulgences would not go amiss. As she ran, she conjured up images of her own.

Reaching the ground floor, Murtagh, still grinning from the mental exchanges that had been absent for too long, headed towards the nearest passageway to the entrance. The large tapestry that also led to towards the dungeons provided the best vantage point.

Peeking through the smallest gap that he could afford to create, he watched them file inside, one by one. Words were being muttered by the two cloaked figures, but he could not hear them from where he stood. Then, the two figures began to walk towards him.

Shrinking backward a little, he listened to their approaching steps and held his tongue. A part of him wanted to shout out some warning, but a voice inside of him told him to stay still. He heard them pass his place of hiding and then move onward and onward and…

Unable to believe what he was hearing, he glanced through the opposite side of the tapestry, watching the two men walk straight past the prior point of destruction, and reach the dungeon doors. One of them turned, and although he could not see the face, the voice was unmistakable.

"This way. All of you. Stand side by side and now walk in a single line. Such is the respectful way to greet your King," the smooth voice instructed.

The people, who appeared to be nothing other than scum from the streets, obeyed without question. How would they know that such silly rules did not exist. They formed the line and at a matching pace, began to march forward. Amongst the line of ordinary faces, Murtagh recognised Scarlet. The Twins stood, holding the doors open for them, waiting and the people began to hurry.

Had he missed something important? Why would the King wish to see them? And why would they walk so willingly towards the dungeon? He supposed that it did not look like the entrance to a place of torture and despair. The interior design of the castle was all rather artistic. There were no menacing carvings or otherwise, that suggested that beyond _that _particular doorway lay certain death.

The again, maybe they served some higher purpose? Maybe he was mistaken and reading into the scenario too much. After all, the spell appeared to be inactive. He watched them walk past his position and then, they exploded into the largest explosion of bodies he had ever seen. Which so far, consisted of _one_ viewing. This being his second.

So much was the gore, that even behind the tapestry, he threw both his hands over his face - certain that so much blood couldn't _possibly_ be contained. But it was. When he lowered his hands and threw back the tapestry, they were gone and the door to the dungeon was closed. The corridor was empty. He glanced up and down at the walls and the floor, that remained impeccably clean.

Stumbling backwards, he leaned against the wall and stared forward with empty eyes. What was happening to these people? Why were they being taken? Why were so many people being killed? A burning sensation inside him started in his chest and he tensed. The sensation worsened.

He was running and climbing, before he knew why. Every step of the way, the burning grew more intense and by the time he reached his room, he threw the towel aside and crashed onto his bed. Rolling onto his back, he lay gasping and clutching his chest.

_Murtagh! _Lia's voice shouted wildly. _Murtagh! What is wrong?! Why are you in pain?!_

_Go! Lia go! _he begged.

_I am not going anywhere! _she growled.

_Lia… please! _he pled desperately.

It was no longer a mystery. He knew what it was, and there wouldn't be long before he couldn't hold it back. This was only the beginning. She couldn't see, she couldn't be there when it happened. He had to make her leave immediately.

_Lia… if you have any love for me at all, you will leave right now! Go! _

_I love you and I am not going anywhere! _Lia shouted defiantly.

_Lia! You have - _

His sentence was cut short by an agonising scream that filled every corner of his mind and hers. So loud was this single sound of terror, that it drowned out every other sound that existed in their world.

With his being ripped apart, images and feelings that were neither his nor hers flooded the both of them. Helpless, scared and now doomed, Murtagh was forced to see every deed that his father had committed, and experience every feeling that he had ever felt whilst committing them.

As he watched them play before his very eyes, he silently said his goodbyes to his love. For how could she ever love him after this…

Bolting upright, Lia shrieked in horror. Ella jumped up, frightened, and Erika nearly fell backwards in reaction to the sudden, piercing noise. They both reached for her, grabbing her arms and shaking her hard.

"What the _hell_ is the matter with her?!" Erika yelled.

"I don't know," Ella cried, shaking her friend harder.

The shrieking suddenly stopped, but Lia's face was white as chalk and her eyes flickered from left to right- glazed, but seeing things - things that drew that blood from her face. She became perfectly still. She both looked and felt like a statue - frozen and just as cold. Erika slowly withdrew her hands, and Ella dropped her own to her side, as they stared at the girl. Waving a hand before her face, Erika shook her head.

"She's not there," she muttered, with something that _almost _sounded like concern.

Ella frowned and then moved away. "We should leave her…"

Throwing the girl a peculiar look, Erika pointed at Lia wildly.

"Leave her?! I _thought _that she was your _friend_?" she asked in disbelief.

"She _is _my friend, and I think that whatever she's seeing is _important_," Ella said, her voice sure. "She would want us to leave her alone."

Giving the frozen girl one last wary glance, Erika immediately lost interest. Worrying about others was not an area of emotional development that she had quite yet mastered.

"Very well," she said blithely. "She is no concern of mine."

Turning her back to the both of them, Erika took to identifying the various items that existed around them. Ella, too disturbed to sleep, remained seated by her friend and watched, as Lia's shoulders sagged and water welled up in her eyes. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

Feeling it was her duty to defend her friend's honour, she wiped it away before it could be seen. Knowing that there was nothing that she could do, she gently took her friends hand. Lia fingers felt limp, but then, they gripped tight and Ella smiled a small, half smile. This much, at least, she _could_ do.

Any argument that Lia was about to put up was knocked from her, as wave after wave of nausea caused her to double over. She was stood in the middle of a memory. Like a bystander, she could only watch, as the scenes around her changed in rapid succession - but each was similar to the last.

Death, destruction, murder, violence and enjoyment were the themes of every disturbing picture. With each successful annihilation, came a joy close sexual, except it was wrong - so _very_ wrong. And it did not belong to her - she could only feel it, and it caused her to wrap her arms around herself in disgust.

Then came a scene that she knew. A scene that she never forgot. A scene where she only ever saw the outcome, but never the beginning and she saw it now. The men that came, led by the monster himself. The fires that were set and the slaughter of anyone that had ever meant anything to her before now.

Unwilling to turn away, she watched, and felt the hatred flare within her once more, to a level that she never thought possible. She wanted nothing more to than leap into the memory, drag the man from his horse and rip out his throat with her teeth. Then, just as quickly as it began, it was gone.

There was just her, the holey wall and Murtagh stood on the other side - his expression drawn and defeated. Slowly, he began to step backwards. Unable to believe what he was doing, she marched forward. It didn't matter that a wall was blocking her path. No magic was a match for her fury.

As she strode forward, her anger melted away the last of what kept them apart, and she stopped when she was a foot away from him. He halted in his retreat and could not meet her eyes. Pulling back a fist, she punched him hard across his face; her fist connecting with his jaw loudly. He did not move or retaliate, and she glared up at him breathing hard. He looked away.

_You bastard! _she yelled.

_I am sorry… I will leave you now _he said quietly.

_Leave?! _She cried _You… You think I want you to leave?!_

He dared to look at her now, though not straight on. Only from the corner of his eyes.

_Don't you? _he asked, mystified.

Tears tumbled down her face freely and she made no attempt to stop them. Reaching out to him, she ran her hands over his chest, moved them up his shoulders, along the sides of his neck, until she held his face in her hands, yanking his head downward to meet hers.

_Why didn't you tell me? _she said, through her teeth.

_I thought… I thought… _he couldn't say it, but she read it in his eyes.

_You idiot! _she shouted, letting go of his face and banging her fists against his middle.

He stood there and took her punches, staring down at her, as if he had never seen her before.

_You thought that I would leave you?! You thought that seeing and knowing all that would change the way that I feel?! That it would make me stop loving you?! _she bellowed up at his face.

_You mean… You still love me? _he asked with wide, incredulous eyes.

Staring up at him in horror, she noticed that he was shaking from head to foot, that his eyes were rimmed in red and his lips were trembling so hard, that he had to clamp his teeth over them. Seeing him now, she understood why he had kept it from her. She understood, and she would make him know that he _never_ had to hide _anything_ from her again.

Tentatively, she reached out for his stiff arms and pulled them around her waist. At the tenderness of her touch, his muscles relaxed a little. Enough, that he lifted her from the ground and pulled her up against him. Wrapping her legs around his middle, she took his face and pressed her forehead against his, staring deep into his dark, scared eyes.

_Nothing could ever stop me from loving you. Nothing. I love you. More than anything, more than everything. You can't get rid of me that easily…_ she joked, stroking his face.

More tears began to fall, and this time, after crushing his lips against hers, he joined her. Tucking her head under his chin, they then held each other so tight, that it was difficult to breathe. They spent what felt like an eternity embraced this way, neither wanting to speak or let go. Sighing raggedly, Murtagh moved his lips to her ear.

_He's inside me Lia…_

_I know _she replied _But not for long_

She sounded so certain, so sure.

_I have six days left. Six days before he consumes me…_

_Six days _Lia laughed _We have accomplished impossible feats in less than six hours_

This time, he laughed.

_That much is true _he admitted _But I am in the castle Lia, and you are…_ he prompted.

_Just outside _she finished smugly.

Grabbing her face, he pulled her back to stare into her eyes. His mouth fell open into a tiny "O" and she smirked.

_What? _she asked innocently.

_How? But… _he stammered and then shook his head in wonder.

_It is a long story _she admitted with a slow smile.

_Tell me everything _he insisted, touching the side of her face.

As he did so, his eyes involuntarily moved to her lips, and he saw her smile widen. Wetting his lips with his tongue, he curled his fingers around her neck and drew her face closer.

_Tell me after…. _he amended, parting his lips and brushing them against hers.

She sighed softly and turned her head to the side with a wicked smile. He groaned in disdain and rolled his eyes.

_What now?! _he whined in his usual manner.

She grinned and pressed her lips lightly against his cheek and traced her fingers down the contours of his chest.

_Firstly, I should really assure my current company that I am fit and well_

_Current company? _he asked, sounding confused and a little resentful.

_Do not worry, I will be right back. Don't go anywhere _she added with a stern poke to his shoulder.

_Is it anyone I know? _he asked suspiciously.

_Oh yes _Lia sighed heavily and then kissed him once more _Don't go anywhere!_

What had meant to be a last quick kiss to the forehead, was interrupted by the sudden turn of his head, and his lips connecting with hers. That made their temporary goodbye last a little longer. Being their first kiss since their last several days ago, things were destined to get a little carried away, Fortunately, Lia virtuously untangled herself from him, composed her breathing and promised, _again_, that she would return shortly.

With a heavy handed swat to her backside, he sent her running faster. Grinning from ear to ear he watched her disappear into the other place where she existed, and he felt light headed. It felt like all his problems had been lifted from his soul. They were still there, but they didn't matter as much, because regardless of what evil dwelled inside of him - she still loved him, and that was all that he would ever need.

By now, Ella was confused. Lia's face had contorted in various, unrecognisable emotions and now, they were smooth - unlined and devoid of any expression whatsoever. The fingers released hers and she recognised the empty look. It was the look that she often noted, when Murtagh and Lia conversed between themselves.

There was something so normal and natural about the look, that Ella felt all worry leave her. At the moment that she decided that it was safe to return to sleep, Lia's head slowly turned towards her an she smiled. The smile was so genuine, that Ella felt warm inside.

"Better?" Ella asked.

"_Much_," Lia replied with a wink.

Erika glanced over her shoulder. "Did you see anything interesting in your _odd_ travels?" she asked impatiently.

"You _could_ say that," she answered evasively. "Would you awfully mind keeping watch for the remainder of the night?"

"Why?" Erika asked. "Do you have something _better _to do?"

Lia lay back down, folded her arms behind her head and closed her eyes with a content sigh.

"As a matter of fact, I _do_," she replied happily.

"_Fine_," Erika mumbled. "It's not as if I have anything _better_ to do."

Ella gave her friend a quick grin and then closed her eyes easily. With some feeling of normalcy, it was easier to slip back into the comfort of sleep. Erika, bored, stared at the door, with the palm of her hand pressed against her cheek, looking as though she wished she were _anywhere _else. And Lia simply left enough of her awareness to catch any signs of disturbance. The rest of her belonged to _him_.

Reappearing in front of Murtagh, they grabbed for each other, as if their lives depended on it and sank to the ground amidst fierce, hard, urgent kisses and the tearing of clothing.

"_So…when…do…we… talk_?" he asked, between the rough meeting of their lips.

Breaking the kiss, she pushed his back down against the ground. "In the morning," she answered, straddling her legs on either side of him.

Grinning, he pulled her against him, and they finalised their reunion on the cold, hard floor of this sacred place that was theirs.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_We should talk_ Lia mumbled against his still moving lips.

_Soon _he promised, still making no attempt to break their kiss.

Lia shared his reluctance. In their special place, naked bodies entwined and draped across her lover's chest, time was standing still. The world felt like a perfect place. Their warm bodies moulded against each other, his hands tangled into her hair, touched her face and caressed every inch of her as his lips moved against hers. The kisses had begun fast and urgent, but now they were slow, but just as deep and just as pleasurable.

How easy it was to forget their problems. Of course they could not forget them, how could they? They were there, waiting to rear their ugly heads and they were yet to be discussed. Their necessary conversation was long overdue; cast aside in the quest for a more enjoyable use of their precious time.

Sensing her thoughts, Murtagh finally pulled his mouth away from hers, sighed unhappily and then, without warning, shoved her body off of him. When her bare backside hit the cold ground, she yelped once in discomfort and then fired him a hard look to which he replied with a smirk.

_Well, if you insist on having our serious conversation, I'd rather there were several feet between us. You may find it difficult to comprehend, but you are very distracting right now_Glancing down at her nudity and then at his, Lia's lips twitched.

_I'm sure that can be rectified_Trying something a little different, she imagined her usual attire – less ripped and less riddled with holes – and watched as the clothes shimmered and began to appear on her. Smiling triumphantly, she gestured to her now suitable clothed form.

_Better?_ she asked.

Murtagh's brows shot up in surprise, but then, he scowled. He appeared to be concentrating hard, then he blinked and then her clothes disappeared once more.

_Much_ he replied smiling hugely.

Raising a challenging brow, she willed her clothes back on. He willed them back off. She willed them on. He willed them off. It appeared that in this place of shared consciousness, there was no dominant presence.

_You know, I could keep this up all day and never get bored_ Murtagh announced happily.

Lia willed him into a dress. He stopped after that and they silently agreed to remain in their current state of nakedness. The games had to stop sometime, even for them, even if only for a while.

_Ready?_ he asked casually.

_Ready _she confirmed with a curt nod.

And just like that, all humour left their faces and all that was left was their business manner. All be it a cool and detached naked business manner. It didn't matter; they had slipped into professional mode and their exchange of tales was about to begin.

_After I was taken, what happened to you?  
_  
_I'd only suffered a blow to the head. When I awoke, I was alone – only surrounded by the dead. I ran through the tunnels calling out to you, but I couldn't see you or feel you. They found me unconscious several hours later_Her words were spoken with nonchalance, but the pain behind them was strong and he felt it like a knife twisting in his gut. And yet still, he kept his expression smooth. They both did, as he listened to her continue her account of what has passed.

_They took me to the dragon hold and tended to my wounds, but they didn't believe that you were alive. I tried to escape at every opportunity, to search for you, but…they did not allow it…_At this point, Lia thought about hiding memories of that day. It was too late. Too late and they were past keeping secrets. She had already seen the memory flicker in the back of her mind and then, it was no longer solely belonged to her. Murtagh's eyes drifted out of focus, as he saw her being tackled and drugged.

She closed her eyes; ashamed of the sight and embarrassed at having him see it. His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. The careful composure was threatening to crack, but he held it in place. Sending him her gratitude, she carried on.

_When I was deemed fit for release, I sat, waiting to feel you, but I could not and then, I stumbled across Angela_Murtagh's face blanched and a muscle began to jump at his temple. She fought hard to maintain her calm, but one look at his face had her turn her face away from him.

Angela? Who taught you?

The very same. I… borrowed something of hers without permission. A bottle of Ra'zac poison to be precise. She refused to help me look for you. She believed what the others believed…or so I thought. Regardless, she left me no choice. I had to take matters into my own hands

_It was the only way_ – she muttered – _I had to drink it all. I thought that maybe, just like the last time, somehow, we would be joined…_There was no fighting it this time. She let him see everything that she had seen; every fragment of her past and nightmares that she had been forced to endure. And finally, the worst vision of all – his torture. She had not realised that he had closed the small gap in between them, until she felt his hands turn her head to meet his. Holding her there, he scrutinised her face.

_Lia…_ he began.

_It's over now…  
_  
_This face…this isn't real…_His voice was pained. Lia's brow furrowed.

_What are you talking about?_As his rough fingers probed her skin, passed across her forehead and her cheeks, he wore a frown that deepened.

_You went through hell Lia. You cannot lead me to believe that you emerged from your ordeal unscathed_ she answered honestly.

I didn't

_Then why do you appear this way?_ he demanded.

_It is how you last saw me and how I last saw myself. Or do you think that I have sought to examine my reflection at every opportunity? You know me Murtagh; my appearance means nothing in the grand scale of things. The last time that I saw myself was at the lake. Since then we have both been rather preoccupied, wouldn't you say?_The tone in which she spoke had taken on a cutting edge, but his response was not due to her words. Rolling onto his back, he glared upwards at the vast, open, nothingness. Reaching out to him, Lia's fingers closed around his and he gripped them tight.

_What? _she asked softly.

It was obvious what was wrong; she could guess it from his emotions, but she wanted him to talk to her. Days without his voice had been unbearable. If she could find any excuse to make him speak, she would.

_They know_ he answered bitterly.

_They? _she prompted.

_Whoever the hell is with you right now! Even if you don't have a bloody clue what state you're in, they do. They can see you and I can't and it makes me sick. It's wrong Lia. They are in my place. They are seeing things that I should see, being with you and I can't help it – being apart from you in any way is insufferable._Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed her palm and then pressed it to the side of his face. Tilting his head to the side, he gazed at her desperately.

_I can feel this, I can see you, but damn it Lia, this isn't real. All this is based on what we remember about how we look, how we feel. This isn't enough. It can sustain us, but for the love of all that is good in this world, I want to be by your side! The real you, with the real me. I want to feel you Lia, really be able to feel you. I want to touch you and treat your bloody wounds that you've probably left to become infected!_ he reprimanded her.

_I haven't had time to treat them _– she stated dryly – _I've been a bit busy retying to re-establish this apparently inadequate and unsatisfactory contact  
_  
He eyes her cold expression with a strange lust.

_Not entirely unsatisfactory… _he said, leaning in to kiss her.

Trying to hold her scowl, she failed. The way in which his eyes focused on her mouth made her feel weak in the knees. However, when his lips were about to touch hers, she pinched them shut with a finger and thumb.

_Now, now Murtagh, heaven forbid I should be distracting you_ she said with a coy smile.

Grinning, he moved his lips away, but his eyes tightened as he braced himself to ask the all- important question of the moment.

_Alright, enough details that can be divulged at another time. Tell me who is it that you travel with?_She wondered why he hadn't known from her thoughts and then she realised that since her time with him, she had forgotten them entirely. Holding their images at bay, she smiled wickedly and turned the event into a game. Despite his predetermined hatred towards them, he rolled his eyes and chuckled.

_You wish me to guess?_Groaning loudly, Murtagh rubbed his hands across his face.

I needed two people to perform a ritual to get me here; two people that wanted you alive. Any ideas?

_Well that narrows it down to Ella and my most favourite arse hole to ever curse this world with his existence; our beloved Rider_Lia corrected him with a forced half smile.

You're wrong on one count

He stared at her expectantly.

_Eragon was a little upset, over the small incident of my fist connecting with his face. So he was unavailable, but he did send his deepest apologies and kindest regards_he choked back a laugh.

You hit the Rider?

_It was about time _someone _did _she sighed .

_I miss all the good things _he said somewhat grumpily.  
Shrugging away his disappointment, he tried to look at the good side of the scenario.

_But on the plus side, that's one less idiot's hide to be looking out for, when I should be looking after my own. You know our dear Rider; he'd come storming here with our best interests at heart, and be more of a damn hindrance than actual help_

_  
The story of that boy's life _Lia agreed wholeheartedly.

Eyes tightening once more, Murtagh frowned.

_But all praise for the Saviour aside…who else would bother? _he wondered to himself, speaking aloud.

_Think. It will come to you…_

_  
_The way in which each of the words dripped bitterly from the lips of his love and her tone were enough to answer the question.

_Not…not that girl?! _he half choked, half chuckled.

_Yes… _that _girl _she replied with distaste.

_Why the hell does she want me alive this time?_

_  
_Lia's eyes turned into slits.

_Why do you _think? she asked with pointed sarcasm.

Arching a brow high in disbelief, he shook his head in disdain.

_You don't honestly mean to tell me that after everything we've done to piss her off and all that she knows about the two of us, that she _still _wishes to…pursue me?_

_  
Of course _Lia replied petulantly_._

_  
Unbelievable _he muttered in disgust.

Sighing reluctantly, Lia's eye twitched with irritation.

_But whilst her wishes keep her in my current company, where her talents are at my disposal, I suppose that I should be grateful_

_  
_She didn't sound grateful at _all_. The way in which she said the word "_grateful_" rumbled at the back of her throat, causing the both of them to laugh against their will.

_I suppose the wench does have her uses _- Murtagh allowed, before asking - _Have you at least managed to hit the bitch yet?_

_  
She's just too blood fast _- Lia grumbled in her eternal annoyance - _But I did take a piss on her leg. Does that count?_

_  
_Staring at her incredulously, Murtagh roared with laughter, before pulling her into another one of his sidetracking kisses. When he stopped, she pouted a little against her better judgement. He saw her tiny moment of weakness and smirked.

_My dear Lady, you never cease to make me proud_ he said adoringly, pressing his lips to her brow.

Shrugging one shoulder modestly, she grinned, but made no attempt to move away.

_What can I say? I make the best out of a bad situation. Call me resourceful_ she winked.

_Shall we make the best out of this bad situation?_ he asked her huskily.

His hand began to move up the leg that was slung over his middle. Grabbing it, she placed it firmly on her hip.

_Again?_ she asked, with wide-eyed, innocent shock.

Giving her a look that told her his ever intent, she moved closer to him, about to give in. That was when the muffled echo reached their ears and their heads shot upwards. Distorted voices were penetrating their private place - it felt like an insult of the worst kind. Murtagh's face puckered and Lia raised her eyes to the heavens and cursed.

_My wake up call _she muttered.

_Let them wait _he demanded angrily.

_Not for long… _she said sourly.

A low, guttural noise reverberated from his chest and he pinned her to him; his fingers biting into her skin. Her own clung to him just as hard, just as painfully.

_They have had you for two days Lia, they can damn well wait _he insisted ferverently.

Sighing, Lia glared balefully up at the void above, from whence the voices came.

_Yes, they can. But only long enough for you to show me your side of the tale_

_  
Show you?_

_  
It will be quicker_

_  
_It was. Stroking the side of her face, he let his memories of the past few days merge with hers. Every thought, sight, feeling and word. The process was over in a few seconds, but it left her holding onto him all the more tighter. All the more reluctant to let him go.

_Was that sufficient? _he asked quietly.

_Quite_ she replied tersely.

Unhinging her arms from around him, he released his hold on her and watched carefully, as she closed her eyes angrily and then sat herself up. Leaning over him, she jabbed a finger into the centre of his chest and pierced the area with a malevolent look. Bending her head closer to it, she stopped when her lips could barely touch his skin and her expression was fierce.

_I know you're in there you bastard, so you listen to me and you take in every word. You are dead and you are damn well going to stay that way. And I swear to every type of God that exists, the good, the bad, whichever that will bloody well listen - if you harm a hair on his head, I will join you in the fiery pits of hell and make the devil himself seem like a big, fat cherub. _

_Because if you return him to me in any condition other than perfect, I will show you the true meaning of hell. And I don't care if he is your son, you can't have him. Murtagh is mine, he belongs to me. You have no claim on him. This boy is…_

_  
_Her rant was cut short, as Murtagh grabbed her face with both hands and crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her roughly. Kissing him back just as hard, she threw her arms around his neck.

_LIA! _A clear, distinctly bored voice shouted down at them.

Recognising Erika's tone, Murtagh broke free from the kiss, leapt up to his feet and brandished his fists.

_PISS OFF! _He yelled at the air around them.

Rising, Lia's shoulders sagged and she leaned against his arm sadly.

_And now, I really should be going_

_  
_Taking her marked palm in his, they felt the familiar sense of completion and the surge of magic that bound them together. As always, with every connection, their bond increased and evolved.

_I want to know everything. I want to be involved in ever decision, I want to see what you see and I want to do whatever I can to help_ he told her seriously.

_I will show you all that I can _she promised.

Letting her fingers slip from his, he pulled her into a tight hug. She breathed him in, not caring whether it was real or not. When his head dipped to kiss her temple, she let him. But when his lips moved lower, she leaned back and wagged a finger before his face.

_We'd better now. I'd hate for you to give me more of a reason to stay_

_  
I suppose you do need incentive to return _he smirked.

Rolling her eyes at his never-faltering massive ego, she playfully shoved him away and began to walk away.

_You know Lia, we just don't seem to talk anymore _he called after her with mock disapproval.

Still walking, she turned, but walked backwards and gave him a wry look.

_You're right. Tonight let us make a small camp fire, maybe share some hot coco and talk about memories past_

_  
_He sighed heavily at her mockery and attempted to look hurt.

_You're only after one thing!_

_  
_Taking up what was normally the feminine side of the argument, he waited for her expected reply.

_And believe you me; it's not that _she replied, with a deliberate glance at his lower region.

It wasn't the answer he had hoped for.

_But you said _- he gasped.

_Women say a lot of things in the heat of the moment _she grinned, shooting him an obscene finger gesture.

_You're right, you _should_ go _- he glared - _Before I take you right here and now and prove exactly how wrong you can be_

_  
_The threat had her take one involuntary step towards him. He returned the movement with an eager step of his own, but then, she was running away.  
_Coward! - _he laughed - _It almost worked!_

_  
But not quite _she replied smugly, already a speck in the distance.

_Later_ he threatened.

_Later _she agreed.

Chuckling to himself, he watched until she had disappeared from view - but he could still feel her with him and that was what he had missed the most. With this much comfort granted to the both of them, he eased himself back into his body.

Feeling almost complete, Murtagh was ready to tackle the task at hand. After all, they were together - not properly, not the way that they should be - but the winning team was back. And they never failed. Smiling, he opened his eyes.

"Lia! Damn you woman, wake up!" Erika yelled for what she decided would be the final time.

No response.

What was even more irritating was the calm shown by the young girl by her side. Bored of shouting herself hoarse, Erika opened a palm, drew her open hand back as far as it would go and prepared to give the warrior girl what she considered to be a well earned strike across the face.

The girl had told her only hours before that she was unable to sleep! What a lie that had been! They had tried to pull her from whatever stupor she was in to no avail. She was asleep; some strange and impenetrable sleep. But not for long, Erika smiled wickedly.

"You don't want to do that," Ella warned casually.  
Erika's eyes gleamed. "Oh I really think that I do."  
"Your funeral," Ella stated blithely.

Just as Erika's hand was ready to act, Lia's eyes sprang open and she smiled up at the strange girl.

"Yes?" she asked politely as if she had been pestered for five seconds, as opposed to nearly five minutes.

Disheartened, Erika's face fell. Lia eyed the open palm amusedly, sat herself up and then faced Ella, who was seated on her right.

"Good morning Ella" she greeted her warmly.  
"Morning Lia," Ella replied pleasantly.  
"Was she actually planning on slapping me?" Lia asked, intrigued.  
Ella shrugged. "It looked that way from where I was sitting."  
"Because I very much would have liked to have seen that."

Turning her head to Erika, a slow, enticing smile spread across her lips. Erika's expression changed to one of delight.

"That can be easily arranged," she said, closing her open palm into a fist.  
"I don't think so," Lia said derisively, pushing the girl's fist back down to her side.  
Erika glared. "Why?"  
"Several thousand reasons actually, but only three spring to mind. Firstly, you do not want to fight me, because unlike that pissy little bruise you won't be leaving on my face, I hit back…hard. And you don't want to risk me ruining that pretty little face of yours, do you?"  
"I could -" Erika began to rage, but was abruptly interrupted.  
"Secondly, I don't engage in combat with dirty fighters. Call it a silly rule, but if you are too cowardly to follow the basic rules of beating the shit out of someone, then you are a waste of my time. And thirdly…"

_Will you please, please just hit her before I do_ Murtagh cried out.

Lia smirked. "Murtagh sends his regards."

Muttering, Erika turned her back on the girls and silently fumed.

"If you hadn't fallen asleep, I wouldn't have tried at all. I certainly don't need violence to have my fun with you Lia. Your fists may be your tools, but as you should know, I have my own."  
"I wasn't asleep. I heard you calling out to me quite clearly," Lia assured her.

Snapping her head around, Erika narrowed her eyes at the warrior.

"So you chose to ignore us?" she spat. "And this is coming from the woman who dared to lecture me on the subject of manners!"  
Ella gave Lia an odd look. "Manners? You?" she snorted.  
Lia exhaled theatrically. "What would you have me say? I am a warrior; we vicious fiends are exempt from such rules. Just point at something and we grunt and try to kill it. Besides, I wasn't merely ignoring you - I was gathering information."  
Erika sniffed in disbelief. "Absolute dung! You were dreaming. And by the stupid grin that was plastered across your face, I ma guessing that whatever it was, was far from being related to our mission; unless you account for the thing between his legs being connected to him, and him being the centre of our plans."  
"Actually, I was talking to him, which made my evening very productive," Lia countered, without denying anything either.  
"How is it even possible anyways?" Erika questioned the girl irritably. "You have the magical and mental discipline of an acorn! You may be better off than that miserable excuse for a girl beside you, but what you achieve is impossible. How?!"  
"Shut your hole! Just because you don't get it, doesn't mean it can't happen!" Ella snapped.  
"How?" Erika asked again, pretending the younger girl didn't exist. "Your connection in a mystery to me."  
"It was a gift," Lia answered plainly.

Rubbing her chin, deep in thought, Erika tried to hear the words that were not said. A gift? From who? Who would have the power to grant such abilities and who would have a reason? Unable to fathom a reason, she considered a list of people who could be the accused. And then the realisation struck her… it was not a person.

"The dragon!" she gasped, slapping her forehead and grinning manically. "So that' what's behind all this! That's why you have your weird little ways and that is why you are immune to my charm!"

Considering the statement, Lia nodded agreeably.

"So, it's not that you're talented in any way whatsoever…" Erika mused. "You're just like the rest. The only thing that stops you being my puppet is some charity from a mythical beast. Which means, you really are completely and utterly un-extraordinary," she concluded gleefully.

Lia shrugged, unperturbed. Ella tensed, irritated and Murtagh's anger flared.

"Think whatever gets your through the day," Lia said, unwilling to rise to the bait.  
"So you can talk to him? Can you do anything else?" Erika asked, still holding onto her happy thought.  
"We can do a little more than just talk, if that's what you mean," Lia smirked suggestively.  
"Hmmmmm," Erika pondered. "And how about now? Can he see through you? Hear through you?"

Moving herself towards the warrior, she crawled across the space between them, bringing her face close. When they were kissing distance apart, she gazed deep into Lia's eyes, but they were not the pair that she sought to see. Relaying the ridiculous imagery to Murtagh, he stifled a laugh.

_Oh my word… is she actually trying to seduce me?_

_  
It certainly appears that way _Lia replied, unimpressed.

_Well, you know the rules _he said matter-of-factly.

_I do _she said coolly.

Painting a slightly nervous expression across her face, Lia began to lean backwards. Seeing the warrior's show of discomfort, Erika continued her advance and as she did, she spoke in that enchanting voice.

"Can he hear me right now? Can he see what you see?"

_Unfortunately_ Murtagh muttered.

"Is he impressed?" she breathed, wetting her lips and parting them slightly.

_You know, if I were any less of a man, I would find this scenario rather arousing. But me being me, and you being you, well…she really is asking for it_

_  
May I? _Lia practically begged.

_I'd be offended if you didn't_

_  
Watch and learn_ she replied sweetly.

With her head drawn back as far as it could, there really wasn't much of a challenge. She had led Erika to believe that she had the upper hand, giving her the advantage that she needed.  
"Not really," Lia answered the girl's question.

And then, swung her head forward, smacking it straight into the other girl's face. There was a shrill cry from her victim and a muffled laugh from Ella.  
"_You bitch_!" Erika screamed in agony.

_What was that about not fighting dirty? _Murtagh pretended to scold his partner.

_That wasn't dirty- that was deserved _Lia stated firmly.

_I'd day on a scale of one to ten, that dodge of hers rated a minus nine  
It probably wasn't one of my more brilliant ideas _Lia admitted with a sigh.

_It was bloody funny though _he laughed.

_It _really _was _she grinned.

Pulling the injured girl's hands away from her face, Ella assessed the damage. Fresh blood streamed from the girl's nose, adding splotches of bright red to the collection of stains on her clothes. Slapping the young girl's hands away, Erika's stained fingers gingerly touched her crooked nose and yelped in pain.

"It's just a broken nose, don't be such a bloody wimp!" Ella rolled her eyes.  
"Fix it! Fix it right now!" Erika nearly shrieked at the warrior.

_A masterpiece _Murtagh said appreciatively.

_I am tempted to leave it. The girl could certainly do with being knocked off that high pedestal_

_  
Leave it _he encouraged.

As the girl attempted to stem the bleeding with her sleeve, Lia found the sight pitiful. Ella thought the whole scene was very amusing. Murtagh was busy chuckling. Only Lia sighed. With no warning, her hands shot either side of the girl's face and with her thumbs, she quickly snapped Erika's nose back into place.

"Done. I believe the words you are looking for are thank you?" Lia suggested conversationally, as she rose to her feet.

Instinct crying out to her, she saw the blaze of hatred in the girl's eyes and then, the girl was moving. Lia was certain that the movement had been a fast one, and yet, she saw it, or more to the point, she simply knew it.  
Spinning on her heel, she grabbed the girl's fist that appeared behind her and twisted it around the girl's back. Ella gawked, Murtagh fell silent and Erika froze. Never had she been caught in such a way. Pulling her arm higher up her back, Lia made sure that Erika was gritting her teeth against the pain, before she pricked the skin under the girl's chin with her sword. She couldn't remember lifting her weapon, or how she had moved so fast, but she knew that she was furious and she knew that the girl was at her mercy.

"I have been playing nicely with you up until now Erika, but you do not want to push me. Breaking your nose was my idea of a little light hearted banter. Try making me angry, double crossing me or attacking me from behind ever again and you will find out exactly how unpleasant I can be. Now, I know you have your tricks, but I am a fast learner and this is only the beginning.  
So let's make a deal, shall we? I don't like you. You don't like me. But we work together and get this job done. I am not such a bitch that I would deprive you of your fun, because God knows that getting under each other's skin is what we do best. But why don't we stick to what we know? You stick to your spells. I'll stick to my fists and let's not piss on each other's territory. Agreed?"

Humiliated and at sword point, Erika was forced to admit to herself that areas of violence were doing her no favours whatsoever. Of course the warrior would pay for this moment, but not now. Now, it was important to agree and then she could plan her next course of attack. Her aim: a humiliation greater than this. Hanging onto her goal, she managed to keep herself from casting a spell that could turn the sword the other way around and drive it straight through the girl's chest.

Not that she would have done such a thing, but knowing that she could gave her a secret sense of power. There was so much that they did not know. Fists indeed! Who needed them when there were a few words that could achieve more and without lifting a finger.

"Agreed," Erika acceded, her voice oddly calm.  
Lia nodded. "Good."  
"Will the both of you ever give it a rest?" Ella whined.  
"Never," the two opponents replied simultaneously, sounding as bitter as the other.

The sound of the door bursting open brought a sudden smile to all of them faces. It was Hepzibah and she came bearing food.

Having met objective number one of the day (being tearing himself away from his partner's side and actually opening his eyes), Murtagh was ready to face objective number two; adapt, watch, listen and learn. The last three on his list were easy to achieve. It was the first that posed a challenge. Unlike any past changes to their eternally intensifying bond, this one was the most interesting.

Without rising from the bed, Murtagh stared up at the ceiling and then slowly moved his eyes around the chamber. The point of this exercise was to become accustomed to seeing two things at once. Whilst his own eyes saw one reality, his mind's eye saw another; Lia's. Previously, when she sent him a thought, feeling or a single image, it was easy for his brain to process the information, without being distracted from his own surroundings. This was different and as much as he hated to admit it, difficult.

The part of him that longed to be a part of whatever she did was drawn inward, whilst the other fought to stay vigilant in regards to where he existed physically. His internal battle lasted several minutes, before he was able to see her side of events, in the form of a transparent layer lightly coated over his own. It was a promising start.

Since achieving this much, he had lay comfortably, arms folded behind his head and witnessed his woman break her companion's face; all in all, a pleasant start to the day. There would be plenty of time for him to venture around the castle and cause havoc later. In the meantime, if Lia was sharing her sight with him, it meant that a discussion was about to take place and he would not miss it for the world. The women were bickering, when a middle aged woman entered the scene; a stranger. Judging by Lia's calm and hint of amusement, this was someone that they knew.

_And this is…? _he prompted.

_This would be Hepzibah_

_  
_Kneading his forehead with the palms of both hands, Murtagh moaned in annoyance.

_Hepzibah?! The all-powerful and demented witch? And you have carefully hand selected this lunatic as one of your trusted allies?_

_  
Ah, so you know her? Well that is convenient. I do dislike unnecessary introductions_

_  
Of course I don't know her! No one in their right mind would _want_ to know the woman - she is evil. I have _heard_ of her. For pity's sake, if Tornac heard that she was involved in my rescue in any way, the poor bastard would turn in his grave!_

_  
What has your horse have to do with anything? _

_  
No, not my horse! My old _friend_ from the many years of ago_

_  
I think that your friend would be turning in his grave if he heard that you passed his good name onto a _horseLia pointed out, amused.

_Lia_ he said seriously.

_Yes?_

_  
You know what you are doing? Please, _please_ tell me that you have _some_ inclination of what this woman is capable of? _he begged.

_Have I ever been wrong? _she asked through a heavy sigh.

It was the wrong reply to his question.

_Now, do you _really _want me to answer that?_

_  
Trust me _she said, her voice exuding confidence.

It was _his _turn to sigh.

_Yes, yes of course I bloody trust you. Not that I have much choice in the matter, but for what little its worth, I want you to know that I _don't _like this and I _don't_ like her, so just… be careful_

_  
Careful? _she scoffed, insulted by the idea.

_Alright_ - he rolled his eyes inwardly - _just make sure that you don't piss her off to the extent where she turns you into a toad!_

_  
Well, if that happens, I suppose I shall have to steal a kiss from my Prince  
_

She battered her lids at him.

_Good luck with that _- he snorted - _I love you, but I draw the line at slimy and covered in warts thank you very much_

_  
Then I shall try my best to avoid such ghastliness _she promised.

_And don't let her make you ugly - _hethrew in _- … or any smaller-chested in any way…or fat… or…_

_  
Murtagh, can you remind me once again why exactly it is that you love me? _she asked sweetly.

_Your wonderful personality? _he answered quickly, flashing a charming smile.

_You are a shallow man _she chuckled.

_I never claimed to be a Prince Lia. I do have standards. I am after all a ridiculously attractive man _he said offhandedly.

_No_ - she corrected him - you're _just a complete and utter bastard_

_  
Isn't that why you love me? _he teased.

_It's sad, but also true _she reluctantly agreed.

_So, back to this Hepzibah business… _he said, steering the conversation back to the relevant subject.

_She is Angela's sister_

_  
Come again?!_

_  
Hepzibah. She is Angela's sister. I just thought that you may find that relatively interesting to know _

_  
Is there anything _else_ that you would care to share with me?!_

_  
We have also enlisted the aid of one who appears to be the son of our deceased, but fondly remembered friend Ajihad?_

_  
Bloody hell Lia, what is this?! A reunion of family rejects? The annual gathering of black sheep from every twisted family that has ever been known to exist? Next you will be telling me that Eragon's long, lost ugly twin sister has joined our merry clan?_

_  
Maybe I should save her a seat? _Lia pondered.

_Honestly…what a collection _Murtagh groaned.

_Aye_ - Lia agreed, before adding- _but I must say that a better looking band of rejects is yet to be seen_

_  
Hmm, we are a rather handsome lot, aren't we?_

_  
You know how it is my good sir; we make being bad look good_

_  
You shall hear no argument from me there _he smirked.

_I will need to tell them what we know about you and the castle _she said slowly.

Murtagh's answering silence didn't last long.

_Even _we_ need help from time to time _- he admitted grudgingly - _Do it…  
Alright, but first, there is something that I must do_

_  
"Must" do, or "Want" to do?_

_  
_She did not reply, but he could feel her mischievous smile and it warmed him on the inside.

At the crack of dawn, Hepzibah rose from her bed, stiff from a broken night's sleep. After selecting the mouldiest bread in the larder, she was prepared. Stomping down the steps to the underground chamber, she hoped that the banes of her existence were fast asleep. If fortune was smiling upon her, perhaps she could startle them awake and then watch, as their noses turned up at the food? They were not being fed anything else, that much she knew. Unfortunately, she was disappointed on both counts.

Upon busting though the door, all three girls were awake and they were eyeing the tray of hers with gratitude. Gratitude!? Could they not see the disgusting state of the food? Even she would refuse such a meal. This wouldn't do at all; there had to be some way to bring them some discomfort. Honing in on Erika's blood-stained face, the woman found what she was looking for.

"Good morning girls," she said with a hard glance in the direction of the strange girl.  
"Ah, trouble in the ranks?"  
Erika sniffed. "Hardly."  
"That's not what it looks like to me," Hepzibah said happily.  
Breaking chunks of he green coated loaf, she threw them a third each. Catching hers, Erika fixed the woman with deliberate, unmoving eyes.  
"Bite your tongue," she commanded.

The woman blinked at her for a few moments and then rose a derisive brow.

"So, you're a manipulator by nature? I've met your kind before. There aren't many of you, but don't fool yourself into thinking that any of that rubbish will work on me. It won't. And don't bother with them either."

Jerking her chin towards Lia and Ella, she motioned to the air around them.

"I'm too powerful for you girl, and those two have been in the presence of a dragon for too long. If you'd ever taken a look at their auras, you might have seen it. The warrior emits dragon magic from within and the other girl…"

Approaching Ella, she squinted hard. Ella looked above her, hoping to see whatever it was that the woman could. She could only see the ceiling. The lines on Hepzibah's forehead deepened, but then smoothed out and she smiled.

"…The girl has remnants of magic clinging to her, but they are wearing off. You can almost see the little particles falling away. It could be weeks, it could be months. Either way, you cannot manipulate her… _yet_."

At the "yet" part, the woman threw Ella a warning glance, Erika's mouth pulled up and Ella scowled hard at the both of them. Lia made no comment and examined the bread in her hand, before taking a greedy bite and chewing on it noisily. Erika's face twisted in revulsion. Only Ella lifted her own and began to eat. Catching Ella's eye, Lia grinned around her mouthful of food.

"_Mmmmm_, this is rather good," the warrior said between chews. "You know, the mould is an _excellent_ source of protein. Really Hepzibah, you certainly know how to deliver a balanced and nutritious meal."

Nodding her approval, Ella crammed the rest of her food into her mouth and licked her fingers clean. She had endured worse meals during her imprisonment- indeed; this was almost a banquet in comparison.  
Unlike the other girls, Erika glared down at the food and then at her two companions. Their smiling, satisfied faced made her want to throw her food at them, but she did not.

Instead, without saying a word, but without muttering a word of complaint, she closed her eyes and began to tear off huge chunks with her teeth and swallowed them whole. When she was finished, she felt green. Hepzibah was watching her, amused, but with a touch of admiration. Taking no comfort in it, Erika turned her hateful eyes on Lia.

"All right, were all here, we're all awake, we've eaten - now tell us what the useless bugger had to say," she sneered.

_Bitch_ Murtagh growled.

Lia smiled accommodatingly and then, she told them everything.

Whilst Lia spoke, Murtagh rose from his bed and stretched. All that she said was nothing that he did not already know and the many interruptions that she suffered from her colleagues, caused the story to seem endless. Reducing her voice to background noise, Murtagh began to think about his options for the day. Splashing some cold bath water on his face, he enjoyed the feeling and dunked his entire head into the tub. After shaking his head rapidly, sending droplets of water flying everywhere, he found that he could think more clearly. As he thought, he paced.

What could he do on this day? If others outside these walls were coming to his aid, it made sense for him to be on his best behaviour. Arousing the suspicion of his enemies would be an unwise course of action. But to sit here like some damsel in distress?! The very image of sitting around, being a good little boy and waiting to be saved made his upper stretch back over his teeth.

Murtagh did not do waiting and Murtagh was not a good little boy. He knew that he needed to be saved and the knowledge alone was enough to haunt him for the rest of his days. Still, willing to tolerate _that_ much, there had to at least be something that he could do, that could sate his thirst for causing just a _small_ amount of trouble?

Lia was still talking when he took to the passageways, snuck inside the kitchens and stole some food. By the time that he was stood behind the tapestry, frowning at the invisible wall of death, her story was almost coming to a close. After gulping the water from his goblet, Murtagh glanced down at it thoughtfully and then towards the dungeon walls.

Could inanimate objects breach the wall, or did they too explode and get taken wherever it was that the spell led? Did the spell even lead anywhere? He supposed that it had to. The idea of throwing random, solid objects through the barrier appealed to him.

He had a gloriously hilarious image of hurling candlesticks, tables and chairs through the spell. It was easy and pleasing to envision said objects bouncing off two very shiny, bald heads. It probably wouldn't be enough to say, accidentally brain one of the bastards, but it would certainly be enough to cause some mild, to moderate degree of irritation… maybe give them slight concussion? He could dream.

_Not yet _Lia chuckled.

_Ugh_ - he complained - _You cannot expect me to let you have _all _the fun?!_

_  
Trust me, if I was there, I'd be adding some pointier objects to the ensemble, an axe and maybe a cannon ball or two. But you cannot allow them to know that we are testing their boundaries. It would only make them up their defences_

_  
_Walking away from the scene before he could change his mind, another thought struck him. Wasn't he meant to be invincible? Was absolutely nothing not meant to be able to harm him for another six days? What if _he_ were to –

_And you most definitely will _not_ be trying that_ Lia said, her tone harsh and resolute.

_I don't know…being blown into smithereens may add a ray of sunshine to my otherwise extremely dull day?_

_  
Isn't there someone to keep you from doing anything stupid? Is there _

_absolutely no one you could annoy?_

_  
I'm annoying you aren't I? _- he replied, satisfied - _This will do_

_  
It would be preferable if you focused your fine talents on someone who isn't trying to save your behind_

_  
I am running out of options and a bored Murtagh is a bad one_

_There must be someone or something!? _she pressed.

Something? Maybe there _was_ something. Intrigued by his new idea, he started back towards his room.

_You know… I think there is…_

_  
_Strolling across his room, he headed straight through the passageway beside his bed and made his way towards his new destination.

The recital of Murtagh's tale was met with precisely ten seconds of obligatory, stunned silence, followed by an eloquent, "_Shit_," from Ella, causing Lia to smile. The others continued to stare at her, dumbstruck by the news.

"So," Lia began brightly. "We have the slight problem of a mass murderer, who will take over my partner and probably begin killing everyone and everything in sight in a matter of six days, if we cannot exorcise the demon in some way. Taking these pleasant details into careful consideration, how do we rid the world of said bad man?"

Whistling loudly, Ella shrugged and shook her head. Erika's sudden, cold smile was a sign of the callous words to come.

"Well, there is the obvious _why-don't-we-just-kill-the-boy-and-call-it-a-day_… but I somehow doubt that you will warm to the idea?"  
Lia gave the girl a blank look. "You assume correctly. Next?"

Hepzibah's nails were in her mouth, biting them hard. As she spat small little half moon shapes onto the ground, Erika cringed at the sight and Ella began to chew on her own fingers.

"We need the map," the woman announced abruptly.

No one argued and just like the night before, they thought of the place they wished to see, said the words and then, as carefully as they cold, began to pour over the map. With a finger, Hepzibah pointed out the dungeon area and the several floors above it that appeared to have been closed off.

"This is a very ancient spell, but its basics are not unknown to me," she admitted.  
Erika gave her a mistrusting look. "Why am I _not_ surprised?"

Lia shook her head once and motioned the woman to continue.

"As you have no doubt been clever enough to observe, the ritual requires death on a grand scale. And like all the good spells of old, blood payment is essential. Blood gives life. Morzan took a lot; therefore, they will need a lot.  
The area that has been shut off is a barricade for the souls. Because Morzan wasn't just bastard, but an evil, sadistic bastard, they will need _tortured _souls to feed his need for terror. In short, behind those closed doors in a carefully reconstructed hell. And believe me, the kill count will rise.

However, changes are beginning from within young Murtagh and this doesn't exactly bode well. From what you have told me, things are happening quicker than I would have expected. Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he might have less than six days. It all depends on how desperate Mr. The Forsworn is feeling. If he feels that he has had enough payment, he may become impatient and show his face sooner than expected...and I'm guessing that I don't need to tell you what that means… "

Lia's gut wrenched. Murtagh said nothing. Erik stayed silent.

Ella cleared he throat. "Alright, so what can we do to stop it?"

Rolling up the map, Hepzibah perched on her small stool and rhythmically slapped the priceless parchment across her knees. Brows knitted together, she proceeded to think.

"Now… as it happens…I do have an idea that _may_ help each of the issues at hand…"

Catching sight of Lia's hopeful face, she winced.

"Don't get your hopes up girl. There is a good chance that it will work, but on the other hand, these are just guesses. My knowledge of the old magic is very basic, but there are certain rules that were followed during the times of their use. They may sound simple, but they are not. The counter spell recital is the easy part; it's the ingredients that will no doubt prove to be the problem.

You see, it is as basic as this: In order to reverse the spell, as opposed to blood being taken by force, you will need blood to be given willingly, and my guess is that you will need rather a lot.

On both counts, I can use the blood to try and break the spell on both him and possibly grant entrance through the barrier, but I can guarantee nothing. And in order to test their success, there will only be more danger. Someone will need to get into the castle. All in all, hardly a relaxing days work, but there you have it."

Erika and Lia slowly exchanged a long look. They communicated without the aid of words or thoughts. Lia lifted a questioning brow and Erika lifted one amiable shoulder. Lia nodded.

"Provide us with means of collecting the blood and Erika and I shall fill it as many time as necessary," Lia promised.  
"Giving their blood willingly?" Erika mused lazily. "I think that can be arranged."

Hepzibah's eyes moved to Ella and stayed there.

"You," she said. "You stay here with me and help prepare for their return."  
Ella looked to Lia. Lia's head dipped a fraction.

"Fine," the young girl sighed.  
"Excellent," Hepzibah smiled

And then, she was rummaging behind piles of what could only be described as organised mess. When they heard a puffing and wheezing, "Someone, come over here and help me," Lia rolled her eyes and went to the woman's aid. A few seconds later the warrior returned carrying a large milk churn with ease, followed by a rattled and embarrassed looking Hepzibah.

Erika stared at the churn wordlessly and then went to hold the door open waving a hand towards the stairs. She wasn't going to help carry the blasted thing. Walking past the others, Lia stopped in the doorway.

"We will return when the churn is full. In the meantime, you children play nicely," she grinned.

Erika didn't offer the others so much as a look; only followed the warrior up the stairs and closed the door behind her. Putting on her best expression of nonchalance, Ella eyed Hepzibah coolly.

"Well, what do _we_ do?" she asked.

Try as she had to keep her voice calm, she was radiating her fear. She did not like being alone with the woman and the cruel smile that crept across Hepzibah's face only worried her more.

"Why don't I show you?" the woman invited.

Bravely, Ella stepped forward.

Upon climbing the last step, Lia was about to return to her normal

connection with Murtagh. Live updates were no longer necessary.

_Well_ - she said infusing as much boredom as she could into her tone _- We're off to slice open a few civilians and convince them that they want us to_

_  
It is a hard life _he sighed.

_Will you be doing anything as interesting?_

_  
I'm about to irritate and ill- tempered dragon _he stated blithely.

_That _is _interesting _- she decided - _Just make sure you don't piss him off to the extent where he snaps off your arms_

_  
It won't matter my lady, because the thing that you love the most will still be firmly attached_

_  
Unbelievable_ she choked a laugh.

_I love you _he reminded her.

_I love you too _

_  
_Then, they set about their missions for the morning.

Bored as always, Shruikan had been lying with his giant head, rested on his giant paws, when he felt a presence approaching. Black snout shooting up, angry bursts of smoke jetted from his nostrils. It was the boy; the centre of the King's thoughts. The very same that had brought him great humiliation, in the form of his insulting behaviour.

Did the child not know who he was?! He was Shruikan! The dragon of the King! The most feared creature in all the land. He would teach the whelp something in the way of manners. Crouching behind the now covered hole in the chamber wall, the dragon willed the flames within him to burn brightly and as they did, he filled his lungs. He was going to give the boy a very, very warm welcome.

Before Murtagh decided to pursue his act of lunacy, he checked the peek holes that lined the throne room walls. Conveniently, it was empty. Would he have proceeded with his course of action if the dear king had been there? Probably…possibly…most definitely. But he was not and it changed nothing.  
Seeing where the exit should have been, Murtagh noticed that it had been covered by a curtain. Slowing his steps, he crept forward, listening for any signs of the dragon. There was no sound… nothing. The dragon was either asleep, or…

Gripping the corner of the curtain, he ripped it aside and was greeted by fire. Before him, the dragon's maw was open wide. The distance between them was no more than a few feet and from those huge jaws came the flames. In fact, flames were everywhere. They engulfed him, licked the ceiling, the sides of the walls and blasted at least twenty metres behind him. It was a very impressive display of power and potential destruction. And yet, all Murtagh could feel was a warm breeze brush across his skin and tousle his hair.

"Stop that, it tickles!" he laughed.

Pointedly, he stood there chuckling and enjoying the sensation, as he waited for the dragon to run out of steam. The minutes passed, Murtagh grew bored and therefore sat himself comfortably on the ground. Crossing his legs, he began to doodle patterns in the dirt. The dragon stopped and stared at the boy incredulously, before snapping his jaws threateningly.

"I _wonder_…" Murtagh thought aloud.

Getting up, he presented the dragon with his arm. The dragon leapt at the chance, closed his teeth around the limb and then snapped his mouth shut. Murtagh smiled smugly. There was a cracking sound and then, a roar of agony and rage, as the dragon's head retreated back inside the chamber. On the ground by Murtagh's feet, lay the shattered remains of one tooth and an entire fang that had snapped clean from the root. Picking it up, Murtagh examined it, looking pleased.

"Do you mind if I keep hold of this? Dragon Slayers are always a hit with the ladies," he grinned, tossing the fang in the air and catching it repeatedly.  
Glaring at him balefully, Shruikan growled; there was nothing else that he could do. Sulking, the huge, hulking beast cast its onyx eyes aside and snorted an agitated puff of smoke.

Entering Shruikan's chamber, Murtagh sat with his back against the wall closest to his exit and continued to play with the fang, occasionally glancing up at the dragon.

"Nice decorating," he commented, running his eyes over the dark, gloomy and dirty interior. "I see that the King pulled all the stops for his significant other."

Tail twitching, Shruikan ignored his tormentor.

"Do you like it here?" Murtagh asked. "Because I must say, I heard of your existence, but I had never been quite sure if all the stories were true. He doesn't let you out does he? When was the last time you ventured out of this chamber? As his dragon, I would have thought that if he was keeping you cooped up in this cosy little place, he would provide a little more in the way of entertainment? Maybe a nice dragon-sized bath? A nice lady dragon to satisfy your dragony needs? No…_wait_…I forgot…he killed them all," Murtagh slapped his forehead in mock ignorance.

Roaring, Shruikan swung his head until it stopped before the young man's face. Murtagh didn't move. He only smiled, as the dragon's eyes pierced his. Hunkering down lower, the dragon continued to stare at him. The intensity of those eyes was intriguing and then, Murtagh felt the mind that was waiting to connect with his. It was the dragon. It wished to speak with him. This was too interesting an opportunity to allow to pass. Lowering his wall enough to allow only the exchange of voices, Murtagh offered the dragon this much. This was the fist time he had lowered his defences for anyone.  
_Yes? _Murtagh asked casually.

_I do not care who you are or how important they consider you to be. If you speak ill of the King, I shall –_

_  
You will what? Attack me with harsh language? I am terrified. Really._

_  
Do not test me boy! I will find a way to harm you!_

_  
Now, now mister dragon, you wouldn't want to do that. That might upset your precious King, and as far as I know, he very much wants me alive. In fact, his highness is quite the host. He has provided me with a beautiful chamber, steaming hot baths, delicious food and a fine woman for every night of the week. Let's see…what exactly has he done for you? Ah! Is that a doggie bowl I see in the corner there?_

_  
Silence! I shall have them cut out your impudent tongue!_

_  
It's not use you know. I am protected until daddy dearest takes me over. _

_You could try to do a bit more damage yourself. Maybe I could make a fetching necklace out of your teeth?_

_  
How dare you come here and speak to me!_

_  
I dare quite shamelessly. I do bore easily and it seemed like such a good idea at the time. I suppose I wanted to compare you to the last dragon I was acquainted with, and I must say that the differences between the both of you are… well… rather depressing actually…_

_  
I am the dragon of a King! _

_  
And Saphira is the dragon of a slightly retarded farm boy and I shall be perfectly honest with you, I've never seen a stronger bond between two beings_

_  
Sa- Saphira? The other dragon is…_

_  
Female? Yes_

_  
_Shruikan fell silent and Murtagh used the moment to continue.

_She is still young of course, but she is a beautiful creature. She can is rather headstrong, but essentially, a kinder, more tolerant being couldn't exist. Her love for that idiot is more than he deserves and he loves her like no other. Eragon may be no King, but he has offered her every part of him and they complete one another. Can you say as much for your Rider?_

_  
The King is a busy man _the dragon replied stiffly.

_You cannot even think of him as your Rider, can you?_

_  
The king required a dragon, therefore –_

_  
He forced you to hatch for him_

_  
It changes nothing! I am –_

_  
You are nothing Shruikan. The King mourns his other dragon still. You are an object to him. A symbol of his status; nothing more, nothing less. Like everyone else in this castle, you are a servant. The only difference is that you have the misfortune to be stuck inside his head_

_  
_The dragon's large lids dropped down half way. Murtagh's face lit up and then, he shoved his knuckles in his mouth.

_Oh my…he doesn't even give you that much, does he?_

_  
The King is –_

_  
Do stop making excuses for the man and look at the facts. The man doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust anyone and he keeps you like a dog. In fact, I have seen dogs treated better_

_  
_Shuffling slightly, Shruikan hissed and looked as if he were about to snap open his wings. Then Murtagh heard the sound. A heavy chink of metal against stone and a strange, groaning noise. Unable to believe what he was seeing, he rose to his feet and slowly stalked around the perimeter of the chamber. The dragon growled silently, but otherwise, did not move. He couldn't.

The beast's legs had been chained to the far wall and his wings had been chained together. Murtagh could see old scars and bare patches, where scales had been worn away over the years. When he returned to his seat, he gazed at the dragon with questioning eyes in complete and utter disbelief.

_That man did this to you. That man keeps you here like this and yet you defend him? You really are as crazy as they say you are_

_  
It was for my own good. He –_

_  
Your own good? You are a dragon! Dragon's are meant to be in the air! I should know! I have seen one and there is nothing more natural or magnificent! This?! This goes against nature! Not just your nature, any nature! The King's dragon you call yourself?! You are nothing but the King's pet! A neglected, unloved and unwanted pet! Do you think it will get better when my father returns? It will get worse! There is one last egg and when it hatches, the king will only be reminded of what he has lost. He will only resent your presence even more!_

_  
Hold your tongue boy!_

_  
Why? Do you not like what you are hearing? Well, it's the truth. Get used to it. You were forced upon that bastard and now you are stuck with him until the end of his pathetic days!_

_  
Shut up, or I will –_

_  
But maybe, if you did something useful, such as say, fight back? Maybe, just maybe, you could have your freedom_

_  
Dragon's have Riders. They don't have freedom._

_  
Then you are damn well lucky that he is not your Rider_

_  
He is my –_

_  
Does it feel like he is your Rider? He forced you into this world, he forced the link between you, but there is no bond. Shruikan, do not fool yourself. He has forced your minds to join, but you are not part of one another. The man cuts you out entirely! If that doesn't show exactly how little the man wants to do with you, I think the chains say the rest_

_  
You are annoying and you talk too much_

_  
It's true. But at least I know who I am. Do you know who you are?_

_  
I am Shruikan _the dragon said, rising importantly.

_Yes, yes you are. And you, my scaly friend, are being cheated of a power, an existence that is rightfully yours. He needs you, but you do not need him. The day that you realise than you have more power than he can imagine, is the day that you are free_

_  
Are you finished?_ Shruikan growled.

_I think I have given you enough to think about_

_  
You have given me nothing_

_  
That is a possibility, but I guarantee that the second I pass through that _

_hole, you will be thinking about every world that I have said_

_  
I will not and the King will hear about this conversation_

_  
No he will not_

_  
I will inform him upon his return, make no mistake!_

_  
I do not think so _Murtagh smirked.

_And why not? _hissed the dragon.

_Because…you do not want to see the look on his face, sense the thoughts that are hidden from you, or hear the tone in his voice that will mark my words as true_

_  
_Hesitating, the dragon ground his teeth in annoyance.

_Think about it - Murtagh winked- Unless of course those chains are some fashion accessory, you may want to consider a life without them. This is your life dragon and there is a whole world out there and endless skies. Whether you realise it or not, you are different from other dragons. You have the ability to form your own life, free from the ties to a Rider. You have a chance to be your own master and form your own bonds, with those that _you_ deem worthy. So, ask yourself this one simple question dragon; what the hell are you waiting for?_

_  
_Shruikan was about to answer, when the connection was severed and the young man disappeared from the chamber. Seething with rage, the dragon roared and sent jet after jet of useless flames firing down the passageway. He was enraged, he was insulted, he was trying desperately not to consider a single word that had been said, but above all that, he was disgusted with himself because more than anything… he wanted to loathsome boy to return.

Crashing into a miserable heap on the ground, Shruikan stared at the hole in the wall sadly. That was the first conversation he had had in decades. Once again the loneliness overwhelmed him.

Back in the tunnels, Murtagh was itching from the lack of things to do. He wondered where Lia was now, what she was doing, if she had possibly sliced Erika into tiny pieces and offered to use the girl's blood instead. His mouth quirked at the thought. She truly was a stronger person that he.

He had successfully left one allegedly evil dragon in a sufficiently bothered state. What else was there for him to do? It was a curious feeling, but he had enjoyed talking to the beast. Limb snapping and fireballs aside, the creature provided more stimulating conversation than anyone else he could have found within these stone walls. A part of him was tempted to return to the dragon's lair and just… talk. He had never expected to feel sorry for the beast, but he did.

Murtagh did not feel pity for others, but the sight of the bound, winged creature... it was wrong. Like himself, like Lia, this dragon was a by-product of the cruelty and injustice that had befallen him. Chances were that the beast was just as insane as the king. But if there was the smallest chance that the dragon could turn to the side of… _whatever_ side they were on… he could hope. In the meantime, Murtagh decided to tackle a task that can only be saved for the most mundane of days in the life of a busy male… laundry.

"Roll up your sleeve," Erika ordered.

The strapping young man who had allowed the two girls into his home obliged.

Pointing to a nearby chair, she smiled. "Sit"

He sat with his sleeve rolled up and smiled back. The returning smile held more familiarity and friendliness than was necessary. Erika's eyes gleamed with lust and she ran her eyes up and down the worthy specimen.

A foot stamped on her toe. "_Ow!_?"  
"Now is _not_ the time for _that_," Lia stated dryly.  
"Fine," Erika grumbled. "But after dark, I am satisfying my needs. Do I have your permission _mother_?"  
"Only if you are home by midnight," Lia said with maternal severity. "And you pick one that looks a little _less_ like a _girl_."  
The man frowned. "You know, I am right _here_?"  
"We know," Erika assured him. "Now, _you_ want to give us give us your blood."  
He hesitated. "I want to give you my…_blood_?"

Leaning into Erika, Lia spoke from the corner of her mouth.

"Is he meant to be asking that, or are you just being shit?"  
Lunging forward, Erika grabbed the man's face and growled. "_You want to give us your blood_!"

His expression turned vacant and then, he nodded agreeably in the required manner.

"_There_," Erika said with a superior smile.  
"It _took_ you long enough," Lia responded dryly.  
Erika slanted a vicious look in her direction. Lia only grinned.  
"Now," the warrior smiled, drawing the blade from her boot. "_My_ turn."  
"Don't look down. You won't feel a thing," Erika whispered softly, stroking the man's cheek.

Drawing the blade across the man's wrist, Lia turned it over and squeezed. Pulling the churn beneath the fresh flow of blood, Lia watched the crimson seep from the wound.

"When do we stop?" the strange girl asked curiously.  
"When he loses that lovely rosy colour in his cheeks," Lia smirked.  
"Won't that be when he's a little bit…dead?"  
"Well then, if that is the case, you can just bring him back. Apparently you are quite good at that sort of thing," the warrior winked.

Not knowing how to react to that, Erika found her lips curving involuntarily. If she was not mistaken, that was the closest thing to a "thank you for saving me" she had received from the girl. They were in danger of having a moment that could be considered as holding some form of "warmth". Avoiding it like the plague, they suddenly scowled at one another and looked the other way.

Erika wondered exactly how many more attractive men she would be forced to pass by, whilst Lia thought of her partner and also hoped that Ella was safe in the hands of the witch. Each long second passed with the plinking sound of dripping blood.

_  
_Ella's fingers were becoming numb. For three hours, she had been doing nothing other than peeling and slicing roots of various colours and sizes. The task would have been less tedious, had they conversed. The older woman sat opposite her, fussing over a large cauldron and occasionally checking on the younger girl's work. Apparently, she was satisfied. Ella contemplated slicing one of the roots too thinly or thickly. Maybe if Hepzibah was displeased, she would be forced to talk, filling this silence. Thinking better of it, Ella gritted her teeth and imagined that at least Lia and Erika - probably almost killing one another - were more than likely enjoying themselves.

She understood why she had been left behind in this way, but this treatment was beginning to make her feel like a third wheel. She was better than this. There had to be some advantage she could take? Some way to turn this otherwise repetitive and soul destroying work into a useful experience of some kind.

"I like you girl," Hepzibah said for no apparent reason.

Drumming her fingers against the side of the caldron, the woman gave her a strange, appraising look.

"You're quiet; you do as you're told, you haven't done anything to grate on my nerves and you keep your head down and get on with things. I'm feeling generous. You can ask me a question. Anything you like. Ask and I will answer it," she offered.

_Well_, Ella thought, _now's my chance! _This was the kind of opportunity she had been hoping for. A means to find out things that could be helpful! About three thousand questions popped into the back of her head and she had to pick one… just one. _Bugger_, she cursed, _this won't be as easy as I'd thought_. Whilst her brain was still going over her various options, her lips moved and from them came her question.

"Why are _you _the only one who can touch the map?"

Mentally, she wrung her own neck. _Of all the irrelevant, stupid questions?! What is the matter with you?! _It had been such a completely random thing to ask, but in truth, it had been something that had been at the back of her mind since the night before. The beautiful map, wanting to touch it, Erika's fear and seeing the woman's finger skim the surface. She had felt jealous.

It had been such an uncalled for reaction, but she had wanted to be the one to whom this rare, magnificent item belonged. It made no sense whatsoever and she told herself that she was being irrational. After all, what on earth could she want with such a thing? She had no use for a silly map. This stupid craving was just…_stupid_! To her surprise, Hepzibah's face split into a grin.

"My dear girl, you certainly know how to pick the good ones."  
"_Really_?" Ella gasped in disbelief, before repeating more casually. "Really?"  
The woman chuckled. "Yes _really_. You see, the answer to your question can be told in the form of a rather interesting story. But I warn you child, it isn't all too pleasant."

Ella stopped her chopping, dropped her knife, folded her arms and raised her chin.

"I can handle it."  
"We'll see," the woman shrugged and then stared deep into the bottom of the cauldron.

Convinced that the witch had completely forgotten their conversation, Ella suppressed an irritated sigh. A few minutes later, Hepzibah smiled and glanced in the direction of the stairs. Only when Ella was presented with the back of the woman's head, did the story begin.

"I suppose that a good place to begin would be with sweet, catatonic Albert who mans the counter so efficiently upstairs. When I first came here, many, many years ago - he and his wife owned this store. I liked this store. I liked it a lot. I wanted it. This area is perfectly suited for a business, there is plenty of storage space and its location is well sought after. It was made to be mine. Funnily though, Albert didn't quite see things that way. And believe me girl, I tried everything.

Playing nicely at first, I asked politely and then, the bribes began. The fool wasn't swayed by any of it and some of the things that I offered were _very_ generous indeed. Still, neither the man nor his wife would budge on the matter. It's all terribly sad really. If he'd given me what I'd wanted, it would have saved him a lot of trouble."

Ella's insides began to twist. Considering this tale was meant to have a sad ending, the woman didn't look repentant. On the contrary, she looked suspiciously smug. Whatever was said next was not going to be good. Maintaining a face that was impassive as stone, Ella waited for the story to continue.

Finally, Hepzibah turned around once more and then stood up and took her map from the chest. Unrolling it, she closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. Fascinated, Ella watched as the canvas came to life and then, began to change. One map shifted into another, then another and another and all the while, Hepzibah moved her finger in tiny circles. The movement caused small whirlpools to break the still waters, making it look all the more beautiful. Eyes closed and smile in place, the woman spoke.

"Then I saw _him_, the one with this map. I didn't know his name or where he came from, I only knew that I would find him close to death on the outskirts of the city. Riding out to meet him, I found him collapsed on the ground clutching the map for dear life. When I prized it from his fingers, he groped for it like a madman and then, he simply died. I wasn't surprised. He looked as if he had been on his last legs. He only had one arm. Where the other had been, looked and smelled _appalling_. Leaving him to the buzzards, I returned to my hut at the time and studied the item.

It was blank of course and with no distinguishing marks whatsoever. I'd only seen the item in my visions and all I knew was that it had great value. Clearly, as a plain sheet of canvas though, it was worth nothing. Angry as I was, I muttered the worlds to reveal. To reveal what? Anything. I knew there had to be something for the bearer to see; instructions of some kind. And low and behold, there they were. Written on the back were the words and as with anything written in the ancient tongue, they were simple, concise and to the point.

They knew how to achieve things in the days of old. There was none of this spell casting messing around; there was only sacrifice and a few words. It makes sense though, doesn't it? If you want something badly enough, you do whatever it takes. It is the ultimate test of worth. Then you mutter a few, choice words of power and you're done. Simple.

Although I immediately saw what went wrong with the previous owner. He had made a sacrifice all right, but he had been stupid. A stupid man is impulsive. A clever one thinks things through. Planning is important girl and within a few hours, I had a plan of my own. It was too easy, really. Of course I should have realised it sooner, but as you might have noticed, the map does have a rather curious effect on us weaker willed souls."

Ella did not miss the obvious glance in her direction.

"Such a pull was too hard to resist and I knew that I had to have it, no matter what the price. My plan was quite brilliant actually. The map required payment of the most unusual kind. Blood alone wasn't enough. No, this little beast actually required flesh. And you couldn't just ring the neck of the first stranger that passed you by; it had to be yours. You see, the map _feeds_. Each owner feeds the map and from it, knowledge is gained and possession is earned.

Why does this map show anything and everything? Because it has been owned a thousand times and thus shown all and any places imaginable. And now, the map wanted to feed from me …and I wasn't prepared to go to such extremes. But then, the idea came to me. It came to my attention that I could kill two birds with one stone.

After adding the simplest of sleeping powders to a fine bottle of wine, I paid a visit to Albert and his wife. I apologised for my roguish behaviour and being the forgiving idiots that they were, they participated in my toast to their good health. They hit the floor before they knew what had happened. I left Albert where he was, but dragged his wife down the stairs, to the very place where we now sit…"

A shiver ran down Ella's spine and Hepzibah smiled, but it was cold. There was no perverse enjoyment in the expression. There was almost decipherable regret.

"Why?" Ella breathed.  
"I was born with many talents girl and one of them is aura recognition… or to put it plainly, I can see people's energies. For instance, your warrior friend's energy is irritatingly vibrant. However, Albert's wife was not. She barely even had a glow and that could only have meant one thing; _death_. She probably didn't know that she was ill. She had possibly had a month of life left in her. She was the obvious choice."  
"For what?" Ella dared to ask.  
"For the _taking_," Hepzibah muttered. "The map wanted a limb and I would give it, but _not_ without replacement. It made sense and I could not afford to think about what I was doing. I am no murderer; I specifically chose the woman because her time was soon to end. She was drugged, she didn't feel a thing. I -"

Hesitating, the woman rubbed her left arm and pursed her lips. Ella's eyes shot upwards and glared at her.

"_Finish_ it" she demanded.

Hepzibah continued in a low voice. "I used an axe to remove her left am. She was already fast asleep when she bled to death. I on the other hand, had no such luxury. The only tool that I could find was a saw. I opened the map and it… _knew_. The waters parted… and they were red and welcoming… and from its centre came…something you should _damn_ well hope that you will _never_ have to see. And it was _hungry… _and I was out of time.

I had hoped that it would be quick. Not that I recommend that you try to saw off your own arm, but if you do, you should really account for the probability that you will more than likely pass out from the sight of it all and the pain. As it happened, I'd taken something to dull my senses prior to the act, but I can honestly say that it did bugger _all_. And sawing through bone? It's not as easy as it sounds. That's a sound that jars your teeth and a feeling that makes you vomit. In fact, the rest was a bit of a blur.

After much effort, I remember my arm splashing into the writhing water, puking my guts out and then reaching for the new arm. Barely conscious, I managed to mumble the words that grafted her am onto mine. Then, I was out like a snuffed candle.

When I awoke I had an arm, a map and a corpse to dispose of and a lot of blood stained stone. I incinerated her remains in that very fireplace and dealt with Albert by keeping him docile. Of course constant spell casting has left him in a somewhat vegetable state, but in all fairness, I can't notice much of a difference. He was never the sharpest knife in the rack.  
And as for the map? Well, I was in for a bit of a surprise. You remember the nice little list of instructions on the back? After snacking on me, the words changed. It turns out that once you own the map, your life is tied to it.

Whilst the map is in your possession, it is yours. When another touches it, it releases it claim on you and you… die. Not painfully or slowly, you simply drop dead. So, it turns out that your manipulative friend knows a thing or two about my wonderful map and I believe that I have answered your question," the woman finished.

Mouth dry and feeling nauseous, Ella stared at the map in disgust. How close had she been to killing the woman? How close had she been to making sacrifices of her own? Shuddering, she picked up her knife and tried to continue her work with a shaky hand.

"Have a rest. I don't know about you, but I think it's time for some tea," Hepzibah announced.  
"Tea would be good," Ella replied distantly.

Then, she watched the woman who had hacked off a dying woman's arm, sawn off her own and kept a man a prisoner of his own mind go forth and prepare her a hot beverage.

By late afternoon, Lia had carried the ludicrously heavy churn down the last stone step and sat herself on top of it with a broad smile.

"One blood-filled churn, as requested," she announced.  
"And too many unconscious, handsome young men," Erika sighed unhappily.

Walking over to them, Hepzibah shooed the girls away, glanced inside her provided container and nodded.

"This looks promising. Pour the contents inside the cauldron and whilst I work, we talk," she ordered.

Lifting the churn, Lia emptied it. Hepzibah watched the girl with poorly concealed interest and Erika gave the warrior a look of distaste.

"What _does _that man _see_ in you?! _No_ woman should have arms and shoulders like _that_! Frankly, _I_ find it _disgusting_!"

Grinning, Lia tossed the churn across the room with ease, stretched her arms above her and folded them behind her head.

"What can I say? He prefers his woman to be able to wrestle five grown men to the ground. He _is _a fussy man that way," she sighed.

_It _is_ a somewhat arousing trait _he admitted shamelessly.

_Are you ready for another session of stimulating conversation?_

_  
I am all ears… and eyes…and whatever else you care to offer me_

_  
I offer it all. But how rude of me not to ask! Did you have a productive day?_

_  
Dragon amusement aside, I can tell you that I have the tidiest, most spotless chamber and the sweetest scented clothes in the entire castle. I am the pinnacle of hygiene on this day_

_  
Rebellious cleanliness. I like it_

_  
Oh please! I am turning into a woman here! For the good of my sanity, tell _

_me that things are about to get interesting!_

_  
I think they are_

_  
Good!_

_  
_Lia opened herself up to him and Hepzibah began to speak. The talking did not last for long. What was said was brief, but easily understood, minimising the need for questions. The blood was simmering and a strange, rusty scent filled the air, as the woman came to her conclusion.

"So, dealing with young Murtagh's curse so to speak, is down to _me_. But the business of the barrier is down to the three of _you_. I cannot leave this place. The blood must be monitored and words must be said at exact times. However, what I _can_ do for you, is prepare a small phial. The phial will contain some of the blood, but I will cast a spell of a different kind upon it. You will need to get it to him and then, you will need to test it. And by testing it, I mean on something _living_."

Taking a ladle, Hepzibah removed a small amount of blood from the cauldron into a phial and began to mumble some incoherent words. As Erika and Ella fell into a thoughtful silence, Lia looked to Murtagh for aid.

_Any ideas? _she asked.

_Maybe just the one…_

_  
I am listening_

_  
You need to enter the castle… and only authorised individuals are permitted within…and I am required to have a whore_

_  
Of course… That could work_

_  
But it cannot be you, or that bitch for that matter. If those bald bastards or anyone with a memory for faces sees you, you will be recognised_

_  
And alteration spells are useless. The guards are immune to such deceptions…damn them_

_  
Then that leaves us with one option…_

_  
…Ella_ they said at once.

When Lia's eyes landed on her, Ella felt a small thrill of importance, as if she knew what was to come.

"Do I _finally_ get to do something useful?" she asked hopefully.  
"That _depends_," Lia said carefully. "How _badly _are you opposed to being a _whore_?"  
"Let's _see_…" Ella pretended to ponder. "I've been a thief, a prisoner, a convict on the run. I suppose it's about time for a change."

Lia smirked at the girl; this was exactly why she liked her.

"_You_? A whore?" Erika blurted, gesturing at the young girl wildly. "_Look_ at her! She is _too_… too _childlike _and _innocent_?!"

Shaking her head at the strange girl, Lia walked beside her friend and swung an arm around her shoulders.

"For someone that has been with _countless _men, you really _don't _have a clue what they want, _do_ you? She is _perfect_. Slender, timid looking and clearly a _virgin_. There is _nothing_ like a little girl in a white dress to drive a man wild," she said, offering a heavy-handed slap to the girl's behind.

Ella stumbled forward a few steps, righted herself, blushed, but stood firm. She wanted to do this. This was her chance.

_Am I a bad influence on the youth of today? _Lia chuckled.

_You are terrible, truly terrible _he answered with pride.

_Is this going too far? - _she asked more seriously - _She is taking a risk  
She knows what she is doing and she is our only chance._

_  
It's sad isn't it? This relying on others business? When we get out of this, I strongly suggest that we do something drastic to feed our devastatingly bruised egos?_

_  
We could… run around the Empire and pick a fight with a hoard of Kull with nothing but out bare hands? We could fight evil and save the world? Or we could just forget it all, find us a nice little hot spring in the mountains, hunt for food and indulge in just as physical, but more pleasurable activities?_

_  
Mmmmm_ - Lia thought dreamily - _You certainly know how to paint a pretty picture_

_  
Option number four, is it?_

_  
I don't know _- she mused - _Will you provide me with sport?_

_  
Of every kind imaginable _he promised.

_Will there be violence?_

_  
Yes_

_  
Bruises? Cuts? A little blood?_

_  
Definitely_

_  
Good food?_

_  
Whatever we can hunt_

_  
Consider the idea sold _she informed him, sounding pleased.

_Us and our life plans _he chuckled.

_I think it's rather brilliant_

_  
I like it_

_  
As do I_

_  
I am glad you agree_

_  
Maybe this time, it will actually work_

_  
We can hope_

_  
Ah hope…that old fiend _Murtagh laughed bitterly.

_And yet, we fall for it every time _Lia pointed out wryly.

"And how will you carry the phial?" Hepzibah asked. "The guards will probably check you upon entrance."  
"Hmmmm," Erika mused inappropriately. "Somewhere where no one will check. Well I can think of a sure place."  
"I'm _sure_ you can," Lia snorted. "But I have a better, less _intrusive_ idea."  
Erika smiled. "_Do_ tell."  
"Her hair," Lia answered simply.  
"Her _hair_," Erika repeated blankly.  
"Yes," Lia replied, picking up a handful of Ella's hair and twisting it up, piling it on top of her head. "We can just stuff it in. No one will think to look there."  
"_True_," Hepzibah agreed.  
"And _then_ what?" Erika asked.  
"There is still the question of the test itself. I suppose that an animal of some sort could be used," the older woman contemplated.

_There is nothing living here _- Murtagh informed Lia - _No animals, only _

_people. I will need to test it myself_

_  
No. That is unacceptable_

_  
Lia, don't be absurd! I cannot be hurt!_

_  
Not good enough. You are not taking the chance_

_  
Then what exactly do you suggest?!_

_  
_When Lia fell silent, he felt a jolt of unease.

_Lia? _he asked uncertainly.

"Hepzibah…your _powers_…how great _are_ they?" Lia asked casually.  
The woman straightened her posture and puffed out her chest. "I don't like to _brag_, but I am the _best _that I have known."  
"So, healing spells are not _beyond_ you?"  
"I know a sufficient amount to treat various wounds, although they are not my area of expertise," the woman admitted.  
"Well, let us say for example that someone was to lose something relatively small, such a finger or toe. Would you be able to reattach such an item?"

_Lia… _Murtagh warned.

Hepzibah smiled. "Providing I had said severed item within a few hours of separation, it could be easily reattached."

_How long until your whore is due to arrive? _Lia asked.

_Soon. At the setting of the sun, but –_

_  
And how long do your services last?_

_  
About an hour, but –_

_  
But what man?!_

_  
If you're planning on doing what I think you're going to do… don't! _he pleaded.

_Do you love me? _she asked seriously.

_What kind of question is that?! Of course I do?!_

_  
Then make bloody sure you take care of this_

_  
Lia! No! _he growled.

Without asking his permission, or warning anyone else, Lia drew her sword, held out her left hand with her index finger pointing out and calmly brought the blade down upon it, just beneath the knuckle. The segment of her finger hit the floor and bounced once. Ella gasped. Erika began to dry retch and Lia reached out an open hand. Hepzibah passed her a handkerchief, which Lia wrapped around the bleeding stump.

"There. We have our test subject," Lia said stiffly.

The act itself hadn't hurt, it had been a quick and clean cut, but now it was beginning to throb mercilessly. Lia ignored it. Murtagh couldn't.

_Bloody hell Lia _he muttered angrily.

_It's only a finger for pity's sake_

_  
It's your finger _

_  
And I'll get it back_

_  
_Exasperated, he sighed, knowing that it was too late to protest further. It

was not as if he wouldn't have done the same for her.

_You are remarkable _he concluded.

_Love has a lot to answer for _she smirked.

_You'll have a lot to answer for. That sister figure of yours has to wear you_

_r finger in her hair! _he laughed.

_I think it will look rather fetching _she said thoughtfully.

_You would _he snorted.

Picking up her finger with her free hand, Lia held it out to Hepzibah.

"Do you have a piece of string and another handkerchief?" she asked.  
"I do," the woman replied.

Heading to a table cluttered with various items, she returned with a long piece of string and produced a clean handkerchief. Washing and drying her finger, Lia carefully tied the string around it and wrapped it up. With a pleasant smile, she walked up to her friend and pressed the small bundle into her hand.

"You may as well get used to carrying it," she grinned.  
"Lia," Ella asked slowly. "What if it doesn't work? What if you can't get your finger back?"  
"We don't have time for if's and butt's," Lia said absently.

Ella didn't argue.

"Well now what?" she asked, trying not to think about the finger in her hand.  
"We have a meeting to attend at the Tavern, which will be the perfect place for _you_ to find some appropriate dress," Lia replied.  
"We'd better get a move on," Erika grumbled, heading for the door. "If she has to look like a whore, I have some work to do."  
Lia guided her friend before her. "Come. All will be well."

It was difficult to argue with the warrior and Ella felt safer with no other…but she as about to venture into the castle alone. No, not alone. Murtagh would be on the other side. There were just a few steps in between. She could do this - it was easy. Confidently, she strode faster to catch up with Erika and Lia gave Hepzibah one final nod and then followed them up the stairs.

The young crippled man had wasted another day attempting to find some form of work and was denied it all. He was officially out of coin. From this night, he would be yet another vagrant on the streets. If he was lucky, maybe the barman would allow him to stay in the cellar? No. That would be charity and he would sooner join the others on the street. But first, he would see to the whore.

If he could claim back his monies, at least he could have a roof over his head for a few more nights. And he had to know why his services were declined. He already knew, but he wanted to hear it anyway. Then he could loathe himself even more. His self-loathing seemed to be all that got him through each and every day - that and the impossible. Swinging his cloak over his shoulders, he began his slow walk to the Tavern and the last of his coin.

Stepping back, Erika gave the young girl a once over and smiled.

"I take it back. You make a rather _fetching _whore," she stated, pleased.  
"_I'd _take you," the son of Ajihad agreed easily.  
"That's my girl," Lia winked and then turned to their second ally. "Now that the fun and games are over, tell us about the guard situation."

The son of Ajihad had been waiting for them upon their arrival. Once they had gathered in the same room as the night before, they had got straight to business. Erika dealt with the inhabitants of the building and seen to Ella's needs and now came part two of the meeting. He walked to the window and the others followed. From where they stood, the silhouettes of the guards were clear.

"As I mentioned previously, there are several armed guards and by several, I have counted four. Each is armed, but their weapons are of no concern. As no magic has been cast upon the girl, she will arouse no suspicion, but the spell on the phial will alert their charms and she _will_ be taken. On one hand, that will grant her access to the castle. On the other, unless your intention is to have her interrogated by ways I would sooner _not _reveal, I would pay attention to what I say.

The spell around the castle is growing weaker. To those on the inside, it cannot be felt, but to those of us that cast the shield, it is becoming more obvious by the day. It seems as if I am not the only one who is lapsing in their efforts and therefore, there are several short moments when a being could pass safely through the walls. This also affects the charms worn by the guards and therefore, if the girl was to pass at the opportune moment, she could pass undetected. But once again, I can only guarantee ten seconds and the timing would have to be precise.

There could be no loitering, no wasting time talking. You would need to pass through the gates and to the other side before the ten seconds are over. If you are detained in the gateway, you will be recognised as a potential traitor and dealt with accordingly and the walls are thick; five metres of thick stone. The guards will stop you at the entrance and check you for weapons. That time will be deducted from your ten seconds. In short, you will have to run and run like hell."

Pausing, he turned to Ella and eyed her dress. It was a simple, long sleeved, white dress that clung to her figure.

"There is a way you could shorten the procedure," he said with a shrewd smile.  
"How?" she asked.

Lowering his head, he whispered into her ear. Her eyes rose to the ceiling and she groaned.

He shrugged. "It's _your_ life."  
"_Ugh_," she complained. "_Fine_."  
"You have a plan?" Lia asked.

Ella was grateful that Lia did not ask _what _the plan was. Her cheeks were already burning from the very suggestion, but the man was right. This _was_ her life at stake _and_ Murtagh's - what was her dignity anyway?

"I have a plan," she confirmed and then pinched the man's arm hard.

He rubbed at his arm and glared down at her. As a member of The Shield, he was accustomed to a little fear and respect. Pinching and evil looks from young girls did not fit into the appropriate behaviour.

"That _aside_," she said with a meaningful, level look. "How the hell will I know when my ten seconds begin? I need a signal to work with."  
"I shall take position above the gate and will be in full view. Would a _cough_ suffice?" he asked with a grin.  
She thought about that. "I _suppose_."  
"Then it is settled," he agreed.  
"There is one more thing that we're not accounting for…" Lia muttered distractedly. "If the Twins are harvesting in their special way, we need to stop it. No one can be out after dark…"  
Erika smiled impishly. "I can deal with that. Under the cover of darkness, I think I can work some magic without being seen."  
Lia looked to the castle, hiding her relief. "Good."

Heavy, broken footsteps met their ears and they all exchanged a suspicious look.

"I thought all the whores were upstairs… _asleep_?" the son of Ajihad asked Erika.  
"They are. It must be a client," she deliberated without concern. "So we wipe his mind and send him away."  
"If he sees us, he must die," the dark skinned man protested.  
"Oh _do_ calm yourself you paranoid man," Erika snapped. "My ability is more efficient than any of your ridiculous spells."  
"We shall see," he said drawing his swords.

Spreading out, they stood on either side of the door pressed against the wall; Lia and Erika on one side, the son of Ajihad and Ella on the other. The door slowly opened.

"Hello? Is anyone in here? I demand to speak with someone," the male voice demanded as he entered the room.

As the man's head turned to the side, he came face to face with Lia and her face paled.

"You!" he stormed.  
"You?!" she growled.

_Him?! _Murtagh raged.

Before the cripple could say a further word, the dark skinned man had his head pulled back and a blade to his throat.

"Whatever your plan, do it _now_," he hissed to Erika, who walked forward to oblige.

_Let him die _

_  
_"Wait!" Lia barked.  
Erika stopped and gave her a puzzled look. "Why?"

_Why?! _Murtagh wailed.

"We do not have time for this," the son of Ajihad ranted. "I am due to reclaim my post in a matter of minutes. If you do not deal with this cripple, then _I_ will. _Chose_."

The young man glared at Lia with all the hatred he could muster. Lia threw him a cold look.

"Make him sleep. I will want to talk to him later."  
"Fine," Erika said impassively.

_If you honestly think that it is worth it…But if he is here, then you know why _Murtagh muttered darkly.

_I know… _she replied, her voice hard.

Glancing at the cripple's leg, Lia felt a pang of remorse, but it did not show.

"Until tonight…_Jacob_."

His angry words were stopped by Erika's simple order of "sleep" , where upon he fell to the ground like a stone. The dark skinned man let him drop. He motioned his head to the door and gave the young man one final, dark glance.

"It is time. The rest of you, wait here and do what you must. Watch over that pathetic boy. _You_ girl, you come with me."

Walking out of the door, he did not hold the door open for her. He expected her to follow and to keep up. Whatever time Ella has wished to spend in quiet panic was stolen from her. This was it. There was no practice run, this was the real thing. Lia squeezed her shoulder.

"Go. You can do this," she said, her voice sure.  
"I can," Ella said, trying to convince herself as much as the others.  
"Get a move on and hurry back," Erika said tightly.

As far as "good luck's" went from strange, tactless gifted girls, that was as good as encouragement as she was likely to receive. Not wasting another moment, Ella hurried out of the door and followed at the man's heels. This was her moment and she was going to succeed. When the door clicked shut, Erika glanced at Lia.

"Do you _really _think she can do it?" she asked.

Her tone was conversational, but the question was out of genuine interest…or concern. It was difficult to tell where Erika was involved. Lia exhaled sharply and ran her fingers through her hair, took a few deep breaths and then forced a smile.

"She learned from the best," was her only reply.  
_And I will be waiting for her on the other side _Murtagh vowed.  
_Thank you _Lia sighed.  
"It _is_ getting dark outside," Erika said pointedly.  
"She has a little over an hour at most. Does that give you enough time?" Lia asked.  
"I'd sooner spend the time doing something useful. An hour should suffice," Erika replied. "And if _he_ wakes?"  
Lia grinned tightly. "Oh _I_ can handle _him_."  
"Then I shall see you here in an hour," Erika said with a mock bow and then, she was out the door.

Leaving the young man asleep on the floor, Lia returned to the window, clutched the frame and stared intently at the gate.

Clutching, fistfuls of the front of her dress, Ella was trying to breathe steadily. The son of Ajihad was fifteen paces ahead of her. He had just walked through the gate and disappeared from sight. Slowing her steps, she surreptitiously eyed the top of the walls and waited for him to take his position. When she was certain that he was there, she started forward.

Ten seconds. Ten seconds from the signal. He had told her to announce herself before she reached the gate, to buy her precious time. She was ten paces away from the guards, who were already watching her carefully. Putting on her best, innocent smile, she made her role clear.

"I am a gift for the King's guest," she said meekly, stopping five paces away.  
The guards were trained not to move from their posts, as any operations performed outside the shield rendered their charms ineffective.

"We'll need to give you a standard check-up," one of the guards said with a wink.

The other three laughed and the one that had spoken beckoned her forward. Was it too soon for her to act? Should she stay put? She hesitated, waiting for a signal and hoped that they would interpret her behaviour as being shy. Somehow, she made out a definite nod from the shadow above. It wasn't the agreed cough, but it was a definite sign of sorts.

Hoping that she was doing the right thing, she started to walk. When she was two steps from the edge of the wall, her heart was thudding in her chest. As her foot landed one step away, she heard the sound that she had been waiting for; one single cough. She had ten seconds starting from… _now_…

"If you'd just like to step forward, we'll need to -" the guard began.

She cut off his sentence, by gripping the hem of her dress and lifting it up to her waist and doing a pirouette or sorts and then, yanked open the front of her dress, leaving them with nothing left to inspect. Gasping, open mouthed, she gave the ridiculous looking men a quick grin and sprinted as fast as she could. No body called after her. As she ran, she counted down the seconds in her head. She made it with two seconds to spare and when she appeared on the other side; she fell forwards with her hands on her knees.

From behind her, she heard several wolf whistles and had to chuckle, in fear that if she did not, she may have cried from pure relief. Glancing on top of the walls, despite the darkness, she swore she could see the son of Ajihad smile. With the worst part over, all that was left was walking into the lion's den. That was all.

Walking slowly, she tied up the front of her dress and headed to the main doors, where a man already stood in wait. He gave her a derisive look.

"Are you the whore for this evening?" he asked tersely.  
"Yes," she nodded and added a curtsey for effect.  
"Follow me," he ordered.

She did.

Lia's mind was distracted between thoughts of the heap on the floor, her friend at the castle and her partner. There was too much happening at once. From what she had seen, Ella had entered without any trouble and that loosened the knot in her chest. The girl's exit would be easy; the hardest part of the task was over. Now, she was left with thoughts of her partner and Jacob.

Murtagh was distant, obviously waiting in anticipation of the girl he was meant to "bed" and the test he was soon to carry out, which made it easier for her thoughts to turn to the cripple. He was still fast asleep and his expression was peaceful. If she ignored the slight stubble on his chin or the state of him from the waist down, she could almost discern the boy he had once been.

And now, here he was; a former friend that was now her enemy. He had come here to give information on her. There would be no other reason for him to make the journey - he had never wished to travel. He had always been so simple in his wants in life. And they had done this to him. Her attack had inflicted the damage, but her partner's finishing touch had finished him off. Had he deserved it? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, it was a price he had paid for the actions he took. What was she to do with him? Was it safe to keep him alive? Was it fair to wipe his mind? And more importantly…could he be of any use? He stirred and opened his angry eyes.

"Where is he Lia? Where is the bastard?" he demanded without trying to get up.

She imagined that it was more dignifying for him to remain where he was.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked tonelessly.  
"Because I want to kill him with my bare hands. I want to break every bone in his body and make him suffer as I have," he said through his teeth.  
Lia arched a brow. "That is an interesting thing for a cripple to demand. I suppose you wish for him to stand completely still while you beat him with your stick?"  
"You dare mock me, you bitch!" he spat.  
"Oh Jacob, do shut up. You were always such a good little boy. Such vulgar words do not become you," she said dismissively.  
"It's because of you that I ended up like this! You had to come back and bring him with you and then -"  
"No Jacob, I think you'll find that in trying to be a narrow minded hero, you very much did this to yourself. If you were less of a pompous arse, I would feel some remorse for you, but you are not, therefore I feel nothing."

He pushed himself up onto one elbow and narrowed his eyes.

"I hate you Lia."  
"That's only because you used to love me," she said absently.  
"Maybe once, but not anymore. I want to see you hang!"  
"And I want three years of my life back, but we don't always get what we want, do we?" she shot back ruthlessly.  
"I can have what I want. You won't kill me, you don't have the gall. I will tell them you are here and I will watch you die and I will enjoy it," he vowed.  
Lia laughed humourlessly. "Jacob, you're not evil, so don't pretend to be. Laugh while people die?! You may be stupid, spiteful, hateful, arrogant and pigheaded, but you are _not _a sadist. So let me make you a deal."  
"Never!" he refused instantly.  
"You asked me where my partner is? He is in the castle, being held captive. Help me get him out."  
"What?! Are you out of your mind?! If he's in there, he is exactly where he belongs! I hope they have him in chains and burn his bloody eyes out!"  
"Charming Jacob, but you're missing a rather valid point," she said dryly.  
"And what might that be?" he asked sarcastically.  
"If he is all the way in there and you are all the way out here, how exactly do you get to wreak your petty vengeance?" she asked.  
"If he is in the castle, he will surely die and that is good enough for me," he announced.  
"Hmmm," Lia said, leaning against the wall nearest to him and sliding to the ground into a comfortably seated position. "Does that seem fair to you? After all, we are the ones that did this to you. Why should anyone else take pleasure in killing us?"  
"What are you saying? If you are playing games with me Lia, it won't work. We are past being children, we are not friends and I do not trust you."  
"Then trust that he hates you as much as you hate him and unlike you, he would fight fair. If you help me get him out of there, you will have a chance to deal with him with your own hands."

_Lia, what are you doing?_

_  
I am just chatting to an old friend_

_  
Do me a favour; keep him alive so I can kill him_

_  
Actually he would very much like to kill you_

_  
Really? That is fascinating. I would love how he would go about it_

_  
_"Oh yes, the fully fledged warrior versus the cripple. _That's_ fair," Jacob grunted miserably.  
"I am sure we could arrange a temporary handicap that would deem you equal," Lia offered.  
"He would consent to it?" Jacob asked suspiciously.

_Why not? _he agreed, entertained by the idea.

"Of course," Lia confirmed. "But I assure you that even with both arms and legs tied; he could beat the shit out of you."  
"We shall see," he said with a new determination.

_Oh we will_

_  
_"Then do we have a deal?" she asked with a suggestive lift of her brow.

Reached out her hand, he stared at it hard, before taking it and shaking it once.

"We have a deal. I help you get him out and then, we fight and he dies," he said fiercely.  
Lia grinned down at him. "Now, I have business to attend to. Will you be causing trouble or are you going to behave?"  
"After all that you did to me-" he started to complain.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her sword and smacked the hilt against the side of his head. His eyes closed once more.

"I'll take that as a _yes_," she snickered and got to her feet.

_And you chided me for doing that to him before _Murtagh sulked.

_Before, he didn't deserve it_

_  
And now?_

_  
He deserves everything that comes to him_

_  
And our little fight to the death?_

_  
Do you mean to tell me that you are honestly worried about it?_

_  
Bind me, gag me, drug me and his arse is still mine_

_  
That's what I thought_

_Ah… _he exclaimed happily.

_What?_

_  
I believe my pleasurable company for the evening has arrived! _

_  
Then I shall not keep you waiting_ she said with a smile.

Erika was feeling pleased with herself. Whether it was careless or not, she had covered more than half of the city in less than half an hour. It was dark, curtains were closed and there were only a handful of people on the streets, which made flitting from home to home all the more easier.  
It was a simple spell, which worked well on the minds of lesser beings such as these. The effort involved was hardy gargantuan. All she had to do was mutter the words as she passed by the homes and the inhabitants would fall asleep. There were more subtle spells at her disposal; however, this one seemed the most suitable. It was easier to have each and every being in a peaceful slumber, unable to wake for a full twelve hours than any form of mind meddling.

She could not risk them opening the door and being lured out into the open. This was the best she could do and she was doing it well. And as for the individuals she passed that were out and about? She convinced them to return to their homes and take an extremely long nap. Pleased with herself, she set about sedating the second half of the city. If the twins ventured out on this night, they would be very disappointed indeed. With a seraphic smile, Erika continued her good work.

Hearing the knock, Murtagh opened his door and gave the pompous looking man a bored look.

"_What_?" he asked tiredly.  
"Your company for the evening," the gentleman announced, gesturing Ella forward.

Ella stood herself before the man, head bowed and hands clasped at her front. Murtagh fought back a laugh and maintained his look of displeasure.

"Is she to your liking?" the man asked.  
Folding his arms, Murtagh gave the girl a lazy once over and shrugged.  
"She will do," he sighed and then held the door open for her. "All right, show me what you've got."

Head still bowed, she entered his chamber with the utmost obedience. The gentlemen smiled, pleased and Murtagh slammed the door in his face. When he turned, his face split into a grin. She turned to him, grinned back and then launched a punch in his stomach that he was not expecting. Doubling over, he gasped and his eyes bulged.

"_What - the- hell- was - that - for_?" he gasped.  
"Show you what I've got?!" she hissed. "I'll bloody show you what I've got! Do you have _any_ idea what you put her through?!"

When she went to hit him again, he righted himself, grabbed her flying fist and stopped it in mid-air.

"I know," he said coldly.  
"You'd _better _make it up to her!" she threatened.  
"I will," he promised.  
"And believe you me, you're going to get an arse kicking from her that you're _never_ going to forget," she informed him coolly.  
He let go of her fist. "Ella…"  
"Yes?" she replied curtly.  
"It's good to see you too," he smirked.

And then, he pulled her into an unexpected bear hug. Taken by surprise, she could only stand rigid in his brief embrace, before he shoved her away from him and fixed his eyes on the door. Footsteps were coming.

"Shall we make some noise?" Ella suggested, remembering Scarlett's amusing tale.  
"You read my mind," he smirked.

Five seconds later, they were leaping up and down on the bed trying desperately not to laugh.

The Twins stood in front of the mirror, side by side. In the course of a day, dramatic progress had been made. For now, there was an outline of a man. This was pleasing. The ritual was several days from completion, but it appeared that they were ahead of schedule. The slaughter of the previous night had proven most beneficial.

"I can almost see him brother," one said happily. "When the reflection is clear, the King shall have his servant."  
"I did not expect to see this much until the third day. Maybe the transformation will be complete sooner than we had hoped?" the other pondered.  
"Maybe," his brother agreed. "After all, I only suggested six days as a safety measure for _us_ dear brother. If we can feed his soul with enough to satisfy the monster, he could be unleashed as early as… tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow?" the other repeated and then smiled. "I wonder what rewards await us for early completion?"  
"I would very much like to find out."

Ella poked her head from behind the tapestry and looked both ways, before pulling her head back inside the passageway.

"The coast is clear," she confirmed. "Now for the not-so-pleasant part."

Reaching to her carefully pinned hair, she pulled out the clips and shook her hair loose. A small thud to the ground told her that Lia's finger and the phial weren't attached to her head anymore. Murtagh, who was holding a lit candle, passed it to her and picked up both items. Unfolding the small package, he gazed down at the severed finger and stroked it.

Ella pulled a face. "That's _wrong_!"  
He chuckled. "It _is_, isn't it?"  
"Well, let's get this over with, I think you just rub it all over," she sighed.  
"Because nothing is an inconspicuous as covering yourself head to toe in blood," he snorted.  
She lifted both shoulders. "I don't make the rules, I just follow them."  
"All right…let's see if this works."  
"It'd _better,_" she muttered under her breath.

Silently agreeing with her, he rubbed the blood over the finger until it was completely coated in a sticky layer.

"_Lovely_," Ella sniffed.  
"Survival wasn't meant to be pretty," he teased. "Now, let's see if this Hepzibah is as good as she says."

Two heads protruded from behind the tapestry.

"_Go_," Ella whispered and shoved him out into the open.

Taking a final glance behind him, Murtagh grabbed a hold of the end of the string in one hand and held the finger in the other. Pulling his arm back, he threw the finger through the barrier…and it passed through to the other side. There was a moment of disbelief and then he laughed.

"It _worked_!" he said turning to grin at his accomplice, but her eyes were wide.  
"_Pull it back_! _Now_!" she whispered hoarsely.

Confused, he glanced at the finger and then yanked the string back as fast as he could. He had acted quickly, but not quickly enough. What dangled from the end was raw, bloodied and the skin had melted away.

"_No_…" he choked.

Footsteps approached. Ella waved him back inside and he joined her in the tunnels, his face ashen. She glanced at the finger and tasted bile.

"We tried," she muttered pathetically.

With unimaginable delicacy, he wrapped the finger back in the handkerchief and handed it back to her sullenly.

"I promised to look after it…" he mumbled.  
"It'll be fine," Ella said soothingly. "I'm sure Hepzibah can fix it."  
Murtagh's face hardened. "Hepzibah thought she could get us through the barrier."  
"She didn't promise _anything_," Ella amended without knowing why and then added depressingly. "Besides, that woman is all that we have."  
"_Wonderful_," Murtagh complained.  
"Now what?" Ella asked softly.  
"Now we get back to my room and then, you go and give Lia back her finger before I can cause her any more grief," he said gravely.  
Ella sighed. "She -"  
"Don't," Murtagh warned her with a sharp glance.

Knowing when to stay quiet, Ella held her tongue and followed him back through the passageways.

"Done," Erika announced, materialising by Lia's side.  
"That was quick," Lia admitted with a brief, praising look.  
"Of course," Erika replied obviously. "Did I miss anything exciting? Did a bird shit?"  
"Nothing so fascinating," Lia grinned. "But I do have another task for you."  
"How you _spoil_ me warrior!" the strange girl exclaimed with dramatic glee. "Dare I ask the nature of this task?"

The warrior cocked a casual thumb to the young man on the floor.

"It is of the babysitting kind. I have come to an arrangement with our new crippled friend down there, but I do not trust to leave him alone. Will you stay here with him and ensure that he does nothing to jeopardise our safety?" Lia requested politely.

Looking from the warrior to the young man on the floor, Erika tried to decide which would cause more subtle inconvenience. It was hard to tell; the warrior had mastered an eternal look of nonchalance that made her want to throttle her. She was about to refuse on the grounds of…well…there _were _no grounds…she wanted to refuse because she _could_. But one last look at the man had her change her mind.

A cripple he may have been, but he was handsome. Very handsome. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed it before. His hair hung across his face in an attractive way and he had a good strong jaw, full lips and a well built physique. And she had to spend the night with him? This was a task worth undertaking for _one_ reason at least.

"Yes…I think I can look after him for the night."

Nodding her thanks, Lia's attention was drawn inward, as she felt Murtagh's sudden sorrow.

_What is it? _she asked.

_Ella is on her way _he replied emptily.

There was no need to ask if the test had been a success. Her own disappointment was there, but she would not let it take a hold of her. There was still one option left. They had that much. Without pressing him, she appreciated his need for silence. She would been with him soon enough. Heading for the door, Lia spoke over her shoulder.

"It is done. We shall call upon you in the morning when you are needed."

Erika noted the finality in the warrior's tone and refrained from asking the obvious, when the answer was etched across the girl's face.

"Until the morning," she said, drawing the curtains.  
"Until the morning," Lia replied.

Then she left.

The two girls walked in silence back to the apothecary. As before, the door had been left open and as before, they headed straight down the steps and into the underground chamber. They discovered Hepzibah sat beside her cauldron, watching the contents with dedicated concentration. When the door closed behind them, the woman faced them, took one look at their faces and sighed.

"Well, it was worth a try," she said and held out her hand.

Ella, who hadn't shown Lia the state of her finger, quickly passed it to the witch and hurried to sit herself by the fireplace. The woman unwrapped the bundle and both Lia and Hepzibah stared down at the sorry state that was remained. Lia did not blink.

"I suppose that is it then," she said, forcing her voice to remain carefree.  
"Don't be daft girl, I can fix this," Hepzibah muttered, offended. "Give me your hand. You're not afraid of a little cut are you?"

Lia gave them woman a pointed wriggle of her fingers and the woman got the message. Taking the warrior's injured hand; Hepzibah took a small knife and sliced her palm. A thin trail of blood seeped from the cut and the woman took the mangled finger and placed it upon the wound. As she muttered a few words, Lia watched in awe, as skin began to grow across the unrecognisable item. Then, using Lia's own blood once more, the woman grafted the warrior's finger back in place, in such a way that it felt as if it had never been removed. Moving her finger this way and that, Lia stared at it in wonder and then gave the woman a admiring look.

"Thank you," she said in earnest.

Hepzibah grunted, uncomfortable with this show of gratitude.

"That was nothing. Save your strength and get some sleep. I will be down here with you both tonight. This spell requires my supervision for a full twenty four hours at least. _Sleep_," the woman encouraged, seeing the drawn look on both girl's faces.  
"I think I shall have to," Lia admitted against her will.

Leaving the woman seated at the far end of the chamber, Lia made her way beside her friend in front of the fireplace. Ella was lying on her side, facing the flames. Lia lay beside the girl and nudged her gently.

"How are you holding up?" she asked quietly.  
Ella inhaled deeply. "It's not going well, is it?" she asked.  
Lia didn't reply immediately. "It's certainly not going as planned, but since when have we ever needed a plan to succeed?"  
"Your finger is ruined," Ella whispered sadly.

Dangling her hand in front of her friend's face, Lia displayed her re-attached finger. Ella grabbed the hand and sighed in relief.

"He'll be so glad," she breathed and then let the hand go. "He _did_ take the accident a bit personally."  
"_Fool_," Lia sighed.  
"Maybe it was just a miscalculation? I mean, the finger made it to the other side. It just…started burning up. Maybe she can adapt the spell to meet our needs?" Ella babbled hopefully, wanting to hear Lia's undying optimism.  
The warrior smiled. "Maybe."  
"It'll all be fine," Ella smiled back and then closed her eyes.

She felt herself drifting into sleep almost instantly. Was this how the others slept every night? This living dangerously business really was hard work, but in some strange way, the thrill had been more fun than she could have imagined.

"Did I do alright?" she asked sleepily.  
"You were incredible," Lia told her, pressing her lips lightly to the girl's brow.  
"Thank you," Ella mumbled happily.

Then she was fast asleep and Lia's smile promptly fell from her face. Rolling onto her back, she trusted their safety to the woman, shut her lids and sent her consciousness to the only place that she wished to be.

His part of the task had been simple. She had only asked him to take care of that _one_ part of her and he had failed. She had lost a finger because of _him_. What else would she lose? What else would _any_ of them lose, whilst he was trapped here, unable to do a thing? Feeling wretched, he hated the fact that she could feel what he was feeling and know why. It was humiliating, it wasn't good enough, and it was a sure sign of weakness. He was unworthy of her dedication or any of theirs. He-

She appeared before him and he forgot it all; his anger, his self-pity and he went to her. Her arms circled around him and he felt her body melt against his. Kissing her hair, he closed his eyes and crushed her tightly to his chest.

_I am so sorry _he whispered into her hair.

_For what? _she asked, touching his face with the finger that had formerly been missing.

Seeing it, he kissed it and fell away from her, stumbling to the ground where he sat, clutching his head. Sitting herself next to him, she stroked his hair and waited for him to speak.

_Lia…I don't know how long I can keep doing this nothingness. It is killing me! _he muttered into his hands.

_I know, believe me, I do. But it will not be for long. Ella made it inside with ease. The rest of us can do it too when the time comes. And if worse comes to worse, we can simply charge in there and –_

_  
Get yourselves killed? _he finished.

_There is another plan _she said firmly.

_The counter curse? _- he asked with a mocking laugh - _And exactly how much faith are you putting in that little gem?_

_  
For the moment? Enough to stay sane _she replied honestly.

_And if that doesn't work? _he asked bitterly.

Pulling his hands away from his face, she glared at him hard.

_Then we will find another way. There is always another way_ she insisted obstinately.

He glared back, saw that there was no point in arguing further and pushed her away. Stumbling backwards, she shot him a murderous look and sprang to her feet.

_What is the matter Murtagh? Feeling sorry for yourself? Sitting here doing nothing and crying like a child? I would expect such a pitiful display from the Rider, but not from you_

_  
The Rider?! _- Murtagh yelled, leaping up and bunching his fists - _I will take the insults my lady, but I will not take that!_

_  
Then stop acting like the whiney, miserable excuse for a man that we were forced to protect for heaven knows how long! _she shouted back.

Enraged, he struck out and she dodged the punch with the smallest step to the side.

_Abysmal_ - she sneered - _Is that the best you can do? _

_  
_He swung again, harder, faster, but she still dodged his attack.

_You really have become useless! - _she jeered - _And weak!_

_  
_And that was all it took. He bore down on her like a madman. His hands grabbed out to take a hold of her, missing, feeding his fury. Fists flew at her, some connecting, and some missing their mark. And she hit back, always hard, always fast. This was no display of talent, this was raw violence. By some miracle, his hands found their mark and he had a hold of her. With all his strength, he picked her up and slammed her hard against the stone, cold floor.

She tried to get up. He punched her hard across the face. Roaring in fury, she struck him back just as hard. Her knee went for his groin, but he pinned down her legs. Her arms went to strike him once more, but he held them firm. Like an animal, she tried to wriggle free, head tossing and turning. When she finally accepted her defeat, breathing raggedly, eyes still shining with a feral gleam, she rested her head back against the floor, panting hard.

_Say it_! he growled.

_You say it!_ she spat back.

_I am not weak! I am strong!_ he yelled into her face.

As he said the words, she moved beneath him suddenly, trying to break free once more. Pressing himself up against her, he removed one hand from her arm and grabbed her jaw hard, moving his lips to her ear.

_I am strong_ he repeated once more, grazing his teeth across her earlobe.

Shivering beneath him, she stopped her struggles.

_And don't you ever forget it_… she muttered in his ear, before moving her mouth to his.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29 Chapter 29

Lia had fallen asleep. There was no other way she could have reached this pace. She was standing in the corridor. _Her_ corridor, as she had come to think of it. Apart from the one instance that included the vague company of her purring friend, she had always appeared here alone. Taking a moment to gaze around the white, bland, familiar surroundings, she felt a twinge of something close to…comfort

How strange. Never could she associate a pleasant memory with this endless, inescapable place. And yet, in it, she found an unexplainable sense of home. Well, not entirely unexplainable. Here, in a town that was foreign to her, in the house of a stranger, there was no place that made her feel… safe. This place, although far from being safe, was one that she knew.

Inhaling deeply, she began what she suspected would be her usual, never-ending walk. There was the option to sit and wait it out, but Lia felt the urge to stretch her legs and think. Whilst her body may have caved into its need for sleep, her mind had not. There was too much to think about, too much at stake, just… too much.

Approaching the first door, she did not waste time even looking at it. The doors were locked, they always were. She carried on walking and then stopped dead. There _was_ no door. There was a door frame, but no actual _door_. Staring straight ahead, Lia contemplated whether she dared to glance inside. She did. And her lips shifted into a quarter smile. It was Erika.  
The strange girl stood several feet from the doorway, staring down at her feet and looked confused. Her brows knitted together and her hands balled into fists at her side. Lia resisted the urge to say, "Yes, they are your feet", and refrained from chuckling aloud. After a few moments, Erika's hands loosened, her expression turned unfathomable and she remained that way. When it became apparent that the strange girl wasn't about to do or say anything of interest, Lia moved onto the next door, to find that it too revealed another of her colleagues. This time, it was Ella.

There was nothing amusing to be found here. Her friend was sobbing and sobbing hard. These were not small, feminine sobs, but silent, body racking cries that escaped her covered face. Her entire frame shook with some unknown grief; her hands shielded her face, fingers appearing to dig into her skin. Lia wanted to step over the threshold, to comfort he friend. But the moment seemed too intense, too private and the intrusion would have been wrong. Sparing herself further discomfort, Lia progressed to the next door, hoping that it would be less distressing than the last. It was. Of all the people that could have stood there, it was Eragon.

It looked as though he was throwing one of his _not-so-manly _fits of emotion. Folding her arms, she watched him fondly. Contrary to all their name-calling and relief that he was no longer in their company, she did find that there was a part of her that genuinely missed him. If there was one thing she could honesty proclaim; it was that travelling with the Rider had been far from boring. And nearly every part of their journey that had proven to be exciting, were almost _always_ a direct result of what could only be described as the Rider's "_emotional problems_."

And here he was, brandishing his fists at the skies and obviously shouting himself hoarse over whatever injustice had befallen him now. His chest was heaving and his lips were moving, but there was no sound. He did seem thoroughly upset over something, but that was the Rider; passionate and stupid, with nothing in between. Deciding that witnessing yet _another _Rider tantrum was one thing she could afford to miss, she offered him a small, unseen wave and made her way to the fourth and final door. However, when she reached the door, it was closed.

Disappointed, she stared at the door; arms crossed and moved her eyes to the handle. If she wished, she could open it- for once, the opportunity was there. Then again, if it was closed, maybe it was for very good reason. As she wondered what the right course of action would be, the handle moved on its own accord and slowly, the door began to creak open. As a rule, objects did not move by themselves, unless by some form of magic and Lia had not been the caster. Disturbing as the event may have appeared to others, Lia was not afraid. If anything, she was overwhelmed by a sense of sudden importance. Whatever lay behind this door was something that she needed to see. With baited breath, she waited until the door was open wide and then, she took one hesitant step forward. She did not quite dare to step inside. She didn't have to. She could see it all.

Darkness. Darkness and nothing else. And like a warm blanket, it welcomed her, called to her and begged her to enter. The larger part of her wanted nothing more, but her feet held her firm. Then, somewhere in the deepest, darkest depths of the blackness, she saw the sparkle of light. It was no bigger than the smallest coin, but it was there. Like a single star burning in the night, it shone and brought with it a feeling of hope. She realised then that it had not been the darkness that had called to her, but this star. How odd. How beautiful.

Before she was aware of what she was doing, her feet had brought her to the doorway and her right foot was teetering over the edge, wanting to carry her forward. There were no real words to describe it, nothing that made sense, other than a feeling that it was the right thing to do. The right thing, but she fought against it, digging the heel of her left foot into the ground and gritting her teeth.

Her internal battle was cut short by a tugging sensation from above. Head snapping upwards, she knew what was about to happen. Someone was calling to her. With the last of her strength, she staggered away and slammed the door hard. Then, she felt her consciousness being pulled upwards and she closed her eyes, relieved.

Opening her eyes, she had expected to see Murtagh; a silly reaction, given that he was not there. But she at least expected to wake in their place. This was _not_ their place. She was in the underground chamber and crouched over her was Hepzibah. With a finger pressed to her lips, she shot a meaningful look at Ella, who was still asleep. Lia raised a questioning brow. The older woman shook her head, stood, walked to the door and held it open, gesturing that they should go upstairs.

Lia did not like the idea of leaving Ella unattended, but the woman's stance spoke the urgency of whatever that it was she wished to discuss in private. Rising quietly, she gave her friend one last look and then headed for the stairs. As far as she could discern, Murtagh was still fast asleep. This conversation, whatever it was, would indeed be a private one. If it were anything of importance, she would tell her partner in the morning. He needed sleep, they all did. Without a further thought, Lia walked up the steps and heard Hepzibah's soft footsteps trailing behind her.

Jacob's head hit the headboard for the last time, as he moaned in climax. Breathing hard, the heavenly creature's body collapsing against his, followed the sound. Hesitantly, his fingers moved to caress the skin of her back, which was slick with sweat. He thought that she would recoil, but instead, she seemed to relax.

It had just _happened_. One minute he was unconscious and the next, he was awake and this beautiful young woman was lying by his side. When he had tried to speak, she had put a finger to his lips and then moved to kiss him. So unexpected was the action, that at first, he did not respond. But her lips were persuasive, unyielding and somewhere along the line, her hands moved to undress him. Oh he had _wanted _to get to the bottom of his current situation, but the urgency with which she mounted him was impossible to resist.

Never had he felt so _wanted_, so desired and by one so breathtakingly _stunning_. If it were a dream, he did not want to wake and if he had somehow died, he was happy to stay exactly where he was. His lips parted to ask her name. She spoke in his stead.

"_No_ talking," she sighed.

Ignoring her instruction, he tried to force the words out, but they were lodged somewhere at the back of his throat.

"Why do they _always_ insist on _talking _afterwards?! _I_ always thought that was a desperate _woman's_ task?" she muttered to herself.

His eyebrows arched high, before plummeting down in agitation. Somehow, he had _not_ imagined her to sound like this. Though her voice was melodic and attractive to the ear, her tone was harsh. Suddenly he was reminded of where he was and he _still_ did not know why. If he could not talk, maybe he could whisper? He couldn't. It was as though no air existed within him. In his frustration, he accepted that vocal communication was out of bounds. Therefore he settled for a more childish approach. He pinched her arm.

"Did you just …_pinch_ me?" she asked in disbelief, raising a comical brow.

Unimpressed, he set his jaw and pinched her arm again, just for the hell of it. She slapped his hand away as it she were swatting a fly and cast him a disparaging look.

"You can't move your arms," she informed him casually, examining the fingernails of one hand and wrinkling her nose at the dirt beneath them. "Ugh, _disgusting_. When this is over, I am getting my _life _back."

Ignoring the squirming beneath her, she continued to grumble to herself. Jacob desperately tried to move his arms, but it felt as though they had been weighed down with lead. There was no moving them. _Fine_. He still had a leg; one good, operational leg and he was going to _use_ it. Hooking it around the back of her legs, he rolled himself over. She barely had time to react to the sudden movement, when he was lying on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. Her face reddened and she tried to move him, but he was going no where and, much to her embarrassment, she was physically too _weak_.

"_Get- off – me_!" she gasped.

He grinned wickedly and mouthed the words, "I don't think so."

"_I – said_," she gnashed her teeth together in her effort, "_Get – off – me_!"

The words were spat so vigorously, that a few specks of spittle hit him in the eye. Wincing, he pulled an unappreciative face, but refused to move. Her words echoed in the back of his head, ordering him to move, but he didn't _want_ to. It turned out that his iron will was too much for her powers – especially when her face was turning purple from her inability to inhale.

He wondered how long she would hold out? Her pride was visibly disintegrating by the second and when her eyes were saucer wide and scared, she used what was left of her breath to release one _very_ crude word. Giving her a scolding look, he then smiled widely and cocked an inviting brow. Despite her life-threatening predicament, she still found the energy and gall to roll her eyes. He _had_ to admire that much.

"_Fine_," she wheezed. "_You- you- can- move- your- arms- and –talk_!"

"You are too kind," he said amiably and then rolled off her fragile form with ease.

Swallowing mouthfuls of air, Erika regained her breath and then shifted onto her side, resting on one elbow and shooting him a filthy look.

"Give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't immobilise you from head to toe, _cripple_?" she asked dangerously.

He smiled, but his eyes were cold. "Because, it won't work."

"And what's _your _excuse?" she probed, running a frustrated hand across her brow.

"I am my own man," he shrugged.

Searching his eyes for traces of lies. Erika found herself leaning closer to him. Deep in the act of scrutinising his face, his head snapped forward and his lips pecked hers. He met her furious face with a boyish, carefree smile.

"How _dare_ you!" she hissed.

He gave her a single shoulder shrug. "I dare."

"You have served your purpose," she announced pompously. "And you will _never_ touch me again."

"That's fine by me. You weren't _that_ good anyway," he replied airily.

Stunned into silence, Erika then lapsed into a fit of incoherent mutterings; most of which Jacob did not understand. He didn't care. He had free use of his voice and the majority of his limbs and a naked, somewhat irritating Goddess lay by his side. Things certainly could have been a _lot_ worse. Rolling onto her other side, she presented him with a fine view of her back. She was still mumbling to herself, whilst his eyes moved over her body appreciatively. He allowed himself a few moments more of pleasure, before getting to the bottom of things.

"Why am I here? Who are you and where is Lia?"

She looked back at him over her shoulder, her hair fanning out on the pillow behind her.

"You are here because Lia doesn't trust you not to go tattling. _I_ am-" she hesitated and then smiled wryly. "- An _associate_ of hers, chosen to keep _you_ in line."

Casting him a threatening look, she impressed the point by jabbing him in the shin with her toe. He feigned a groan of pain. She scowled.

"And Lia is elsewhere, but she will return for us in the morning. Anything _else_?!" she snapped.

He looked at her curiously. "A friend of Lia's? Yes, I can see that. Like her, you are _quite_ the bitch."

She gave him a moment to blink, before she appeared by his side, facing him once more. A knife was pressed to his groin and her eyes blazed with the insult.

"I am _not_ her friend and if you ever, _ever_ compare the two of us again, I _will _cut it _off_."

The warning was given so calmly, that goose bumps peppered his skin. Reaching down, he carefully moved the knife away form what little was left of his pride and glory and met her icy stare with one of his own.

"It seems that we have something in common," he informed her. "Because I can't say that I like her that much _either_."

"I am glad to hear it," she replied, tossing the knife over her shoulder. "It does get rather _sickening_ seeing how many people simply _love _that abomination."

"We _could_ form a club?" he suggested with a snort.

At that, she laughed and the accompanying smile softened her face. But he could still remember the feeling of cold steel against his crotch and he would not allow himself to forget that she was dangerous. A _lethal _beauty. Sensing his well-grounded fear, her smile turned predatory.

"Are you _afraid_, my crippled little _lamb_?" she asked with mocking eyes.

He didn't answer, only folded his arms behind his head, closed his eyes and twitched his lips.

"Why did you sleep with me?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Taken aback, she frowned. "I don't recall any _sleeping_, but if you're asking why I had _sex_ with you, it was because I _wanted_ to."

Her answer was so honest and stated so plainly; that he opened his eyes and gazed upon her with an inexplicable expression.

"You…_wanted_ to?" he asked, each word painfully slowly. "You...wanted _me_?"

Giving him a bizarre look, she gestured a hand across his body. "You are _handsome_, you have _two_ arms, _two_ legs and functional genitals. I needed a _man_ and now I am _satisfied_. Where _exactly_ is the _fascination_?" she demanded irritably.

He couldn't trust himself to speak; he couldn't trust himself to look at her. Her words meant too much. Struggling to remain seemingly impassive, he blinked rapidly and prayed that she would not see the betraying moisture swimming in his eyes. She didn't. Easily distracted, with what appeared to be an almost child-like attention span, her eyes were wandering the room, searching for something of interest. He was already forgotten.

Watching her slightly frustrated face from the corner of his eye, he waited for the moment when her eyes would land back on him. Their room was not _that_ interesting. It took less than a minute and he pretended that he did not notice her. Wordlessly, she lifted his arm and shuffled against his side, placing one arm around his middle and her head upon his chest. For a few seconds, he couldn't breathe and then, he hesitantly moved the hand above her, to her hair. She stiffened, but then, he felt her arm tighten around him. With his remaining hand, he placed his fingers lightly on her arm, tracing them up to her shoulder and then touched her cheek. Although he could not see her face, he could feel that she was completely at peace. As if guessing his thoughts, she chuckled – it was _not_ an encouraging sound.

"_Don't_ get any ideas. _This_ means _nothing_," she said in a slightly muffled voice.

"Of course," he agreed.

She was an _enemy_ after all. Now, they would sleep in each other's arms, but when they next woke, it would change _nothing_. Content to simply enjoy the moment, Jacob watched her, until his lids could stay open no more.

Losing herself in the warm, strong embrace of the young man, Erika allowed herself a rare indulgence. With the feeling of his big arms closed around her, a memory was triggered. A memory so faint and so vague, it was barely existent. More than anything else, it was a _feeling,_ and whatever it was, she had it now. Someone holding her, someone making her feel safe and protected. She had lied to him. It did mean something, but only to _her_. It opened a window to a past she did not know, but _sometimes_… it was nice to try and remember... if only for a while. Pointlessly shutting her eyes, she tried to cling to this temporary feeling of… _family_.

Marching to the frosted over front window, the witch heaved a mighty sigh, before turning to face the girl who followed at her heels.

"It didn't work," Hepzibah stated bluntly.

Folding her arms, she waiting for the warrior's expected argument. As always, Albert remained forgotten, slumped across the counter. Outside, the wind howled like a hungry beast in the wild, a fierce wind rattled the windows and on the inside, the sleeping man's snores came forth in rhythmic grunts. Yet despite all this accumulative noise, at Hepzibah's words, the room seemed to fall quiet…and cold. Nothing else seemed to exist. There was only the witch and the warrior. Slowly, Lia inclined her head. The slight flare of her nostrils; being the only sign of her disappointment. No… not disappointment. Disappointment was a word too mild. Hepzibah could think of no word that fit the emotion she could see hidden behind those intense brown, orbs.

"You did what you could," Lia acknowledged fairly and with effort. "We can expect nothing less."

The older woman met the warrior's calm gaze with a level look.

"Girl…" she said, enunciating each word clearly. "I'm _not_ sure you're _following _me…I'm telling you that it didn't _work_."

Lia forced a reassuring half smile. "I heard you the _first_ time."

"Well _you're_ handling it better than expected," the woman observed, mildly surprised.

"So it didn't work," Lia blew a strand of hair away from her face. "I will find _another_ way."

It was one big performance. An act of complete self-control, mastered to fool anyone and everyone. Hepzibah was not fooled so easily, nor would she allow the warrior to fool _herself_. Turning her back on the woman, Lia reached for the door handle and –

"There _is_ no other way…but there _is_ something that _can_ be done…"

Dropping her hand back down, Lia calmly turned herself around and went to stand before the woman once more.

"Tell me," the warrior requested.

Her tone was civil, but there was no denying the underlying desperation.

Hepzibah exhaled sharply and then cast the girl a tired glance. "You're _not _going to like it."

"_Tell _me," Lia insisted.

"Very well…" the woman agreed. "…I cannot undo what has been done… but I _can_ remove his protection… _That_ much _is_ in my power…"

Lia stared at the woman with empty eyes, her face turning blank. The woman stared right back, mirroring her expression. A full minute passed without a spoken word, before the warrior cleared her throat significantly.

"Allow me to _clarify_ things," Lia began in a scholarly tone. "What you saying, is that in order for the curse to be _lifted_… he will need to _end_ his own _life_?"

Hepzibah dipped her head, confirming the analysis as correct.

"And you are absolutely _certain _that there is no other way?" Lia enquired, still sounding too calm.

"Yes."

A moment of silence.

"If you will excuse me," Lia pardoned herself.

Lia could feel the woman's eyes on her as she left and she carried herself with grace. Quietly, she opened the door, slipped inside the stairwell and closed it softly behind her. Only when she was halfway down the steps, did she spin around to her side and issue the nearest wall with such a forceful blow, that she felt her knuckles split open wide. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she hit the wall again and again and again, pounding with both fists, until her hands felt raw and wet with blood. When she was positively shaking from head to toe from both her fury and agony, she slumped down onto the steps and rested her head against the cool stone.

The Twins had swept the entire city for the third time, when what smug expressions that they had worn before, were replaced by ones of utter bemusement. Stepping out of view of the castle gates, they hid at the end of another empty alleyway.

"_What_ is the _meaning_ of this?!" one hissed. "Every house is dark, every light is out and every street is _deserted_!"

"I do not know my brother, but it does not bode well for us. We need more fuel for the fire and the palace is out of bounds…" the other grumbled darkly.

Seething in silence, something caught their attention; an exotic scent...or was it a taste? From where did it come? The answer rode toward them upon a gentle breeze. Two heads tilted backward, lids closed and tongues protruded in a serpentine manner. With body and mind, they tasted the air. The process took no longer than the beat of a heart. Eyes snapping open, there was a moment of shared puzzlement. It was the residue of a spell. There was a flicker of recognition and then… deathly silence.

"_Erika_…" they hissed as one.

Frowning, they resigned themselves to what could be their only decision.

"She is meddling in our affairs… and our time is too short…"

"We shall need to _deal_ with her…"

"What _waste_…"

They surrendered to a moment of grief. Years of research wasted… A decade of training rendered useless… It was the end of an experiment that would now _never_ be complete. A mystery that would always remain unsolved. An occasion worth mourning indeed.

"Come…" one said, tearing them away from their overwhelming sense of loss. "Let us prepare for her…"- he hesitated – "…_ disposal. _And _then_… let us find more _cattle_ for the _slaughter_."

"But from _where _mybrother?"

"From _wherever_ we can _find_," the other replied with a cold smile.

_What happened?_ Murtagh asked instantly.

Startled, Lia had not expected to find him in their place. She had thought that he would still be smothered in that comforting blanket of sleep. Maybe then she could have found the time to prepare herself. What a foolish thought that had been. Time was irrelevant. How _could_ she tell him? How could she find the _words_? After _all_ that she had said, all that they had _suffered_, all that they had _fought_. _How_? There _were_ no words. Maybe there did not _need_ to be…

The moment he had sensed her discomfort, he had been torn from his slumber. As he watched her approach, he took in every small detail – her expression, her gait, the stroke of her mind against his… and understanding dawned. There could be only _one _meaning…_one_ reason for her to appear so…_hollow_. Wordlessly, he patted the ground by his side. She seated herself… but neither spoke. There was only the exchange one very long, vacant look. Twisting his mouth into a grin that caused his face to ache, he nodded knowingly to himself.

_Good news?_ he asked, forcing humour into his tone.

_Isn't it always?_ she replied sarcastically.

_Do I get to have a guess?_ he enquired with feigned enthusiasm.

She tried to smile in response. Somehow, it worked. Her lips curved a little at one corner, but her eyes slid shut and the expression was strained.

_You… decided that you wish to wed the Rider, have a nice hoard of fat children and surrender to your exciting future as a heartily rotund housewife?_ he suggested.

Snorting a laugh, Lia shook her head and sank her front teeth into her lower lip. She saw his hand reach toward her, felt his index finger touch her lip and when he drew it back, it was tinged with red. _Blood_. _Her_ blood. He stared at it for a few moments, before putting it to his mouth and then nudged her playfully. She nudged him back. He smiled at her warmly. She returned it. This marked the end of their game. Exhaling slowly in a bored manner, he shook his shaggy hair away from his eyes.

_So… dying… again… This is becoming quite a habit_ he stated amusedly.

_Yes, we really should stop this silliness_ - She agreed with a bitter smile - _But perhaps that is the point? If we actually go through with it, it will stop_

He laughed and the sound filled her with a sense of peace. Yes, _this_ time would be different. There would be no changing their minds, there would _only_ be –

_No Lia…_

_No what?_ she asked, puzzled.

_Not you…_

Swinging her head around, she studied his face, which was still smiling, but his eyes were unusually hard.

_I am afraid that I am having trouble comprehending exactly what it is that you are trying to say _she said, perplexed by his words.

_There is nothing to comprehend Lia. It is this simple. This is about me. Not you. You live_

His tone changed to one that she had never heard him use before, at least not with her. It was commanding and left no room for argument.

_And you just die _she stated, more than asked.

_That is the general idea_

_How is this any different from our plan of old!? Why should this differ from our time in the cell?! What of the promises that were made?! Where you go, I go!_ she reminded him stubbornly and then…hesitated.

Face paling, her brows knitted together. Before she realised what was happening, she was shrinking away from him; overwhelmed by this feeling that she never knew could exist…

_Unless…You… You do not want me?_ she finished, looking utterly dumbfounded.

The pain that flitted across his face then was indescribable. Groping for her hands, he yanked her forward, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard.

_I don't want you?! Of course I bloody want you! But –_

_But what?_ she demanded furiously.

Sharply, he turned his head away from hers, face contorting in indecision. Then he bared his teeth, glowered up at the sky and then gazed down at her in earnest.

_Do you not understand?!_ – He pled with her – _I am a selfish bastard Lia and I want you to come with me! I want you! I need you! You know I do! But –_

_But what?_ she repeated, a note of urgency entering her tone.

Grabbing two fistfuls of his tunic, she jerked him toward her; close enough that she could see his eyes and nothing more. Prizing her hands away, he took them into his own, pressed them to his face and squeezed his eyes shut. Cold anger passed between them, but there was also a bitter sorrow. Lia could feel it…the struggle within him, the focusing of all his efforts on whatever it was that he had to say. It was costing him. Worse…it was _hurting_ him. _His _pain. _Her _pain. Locked in his gaze, his voice sounded within her; strained, yet strong.

…_You are special Lia… You have… all these gifts…all these talents… Your life has a purpose… I…I cannot explain how…but I know… I can feel it… and…just…Please…Allow me to be selfish…Allow me to be selfish in every other aspect of my life… but not where it concerns you…Never you… You cannot allow me to be… I would never forgive myself…Lia; your life has a meaning!_

At his words, she felt her eyes glaze over and angrily blinked back the rising tears. She would _not_ allow herself to cry. The previous occasions had caused her shame enough. Not again. _Never_ again. Swallowing hard she gave a single violent shake of her head.

_Not without you! _she protested vehemently.

_Lia…_ he whispered his fervent plea and touched her cheek.

Feeling a sudden unwanted pressure building up behind his own eyes, he swore loudly and tried to turn his head away. She forced it back, holding it firmly in place.

_You cannot leave without me! _– She argued fiercely - _Ask of me what you must! I will do anything for you! But do not ask me that! Ask me anything but that!_

Clenching his jaw tightly, his nostrils flared and he refused to meet her eyes. Barely able to think, she desperately kissed both of his cheeks, then his hands and then finally his lips. At first, it was as though she were kissing stone, but then, his lips moved with hers and the taste was so unbearably sweet, that he had to break away. Seeing the defeat in her eyes, a fresh pain burned in his chest. Stroking her face, he held her eyes with all the promise he could muster. He wanted to believe his words. He _had_ to.

_Lia…_ - He mumbled softly –_ Death matters not. I would never leave without you_

Piercing him with accusing eyes, she lowered her voice to one that was barely audible, but sharp as steel.

_Spare me the romantic notions! I am no child Murtagh! If you leave now, you will be gone! Maybe if we passed together it would be different, but do you honestly believe that whatever force which carries our souls would simply leave yours behind and wait for a moment that is best suited to you? The universe does not evolve around us my good sir. In the grand scheme of things, we are nothing but dung – just like the rest. If you leave me now…you will be lost to me forever. You may be able to do it…but I cannot…_

Face twisting in anguish, he exhaled sharply and then straightened his broad shoulders, towering over her just that little more.

_Do you question my devotion?_ he challenged her.

Under his icy stare, she did nothing more than return it, with an added narrowing of her lids.

_It is not your devotion that I question sir, it is the promise itself. I see little meaning in the fruitless exchange of promises that cannot be successfully kept_

His left eye twitched at the corner and her mouth tightened. Neither was willing to back down.

_I can assure you my dear lady that regardless of whatever grey bearded man, pointy headed demon, obese cherub or virgin white angel eagerly await my presence, they will just have to wait a little longer_ he growled.

_And what makes you think that you have any choice in the matter?_ she shot back sourly.

_Because no amount of pitchforks, brimstone, terrible singing or torturous harp strumming is going to make me move from this bloody spot! _ he thundered down at her.

Glancing around them rapidly, she lifted a petulant brow and slammed her hands on her hips.

_And what exactly is that supposed to mean?_! she shouted back up at him.

_It means that I am going to be right here, on this bloody spot and I am not going to move a bloody inch until you get here! I don't care how long it takes – months, years, decades! I don't give a damn! They can shove as many sharp objects up my arse as they bloody well like, but I am not going anywhere! Not without you! I don't give a shit about the passing of time! You see how we are? Right here and now? I swear to you, this is exactly how we will be! Now damn it woman, you promise me! You promise me that after you achieve what you must and die by whatever natural means possible, that you will be here too! And so help me, if you fall in love with another, I don't care how dead I am! I will hunt him down and -_

Throwing herself upon him, she kissed him hard. So hard that it bruised. His fingers raked across her back and she broke away gasping for breath.

_There will be no other. Ever _she swore.

_Promise me_ he mumbled against her mouth.

Shutting her eyes tight, she took a deep breath and nodded her head the once.

_I promise you…I will be here_ she finally agreed.

Sighing heavily, overwhelmed by relief, his lips moved to the tip of her nose and then to her forehead, where he then rested his cheek. For a few minutes, nothing was said.

_But I feel that I must give you fair warning… _she said quietly.

Being? he pressed.

_If I hear news of any frolicking with the beautiful, large breasted, winged population of the deceased, the deal is off. I will be chasing you with a pitchfork myself and believe you me, ramming it up your arse will seem like a taste of heaven compared to what I'll have in store for you_ she informed him coolly.

_Consider me duly warned_ he replied with a smile in his voice.

_I do_ she assured him in a final manner and then buried her face against his chest.

For a long while, they stayed this way, holding onto one another without any other exchange and then, Lia let out a quiet, irritated groan.

_What is it?_ he asked, pressing his lips to her hair.

_You say my life has meaning and purpose…I never wanted it. All I ever wanted was revenge…nothing more. _

_You have a destiny_ he replied simply.

_Pfft!_ – She rolled her eyes, still unconvinced–_ What about you? What about your destiny?_

_I think we're looking at it_ he replied, muffling a snigger against her brow.

She couldn't help it. She joined in. They were laughing now, to the point where it hurt to breathe. What else was there to do? It was their moment of acceptance. They had always done what was best for the people…how was this any different? They had sacrificed themselves for the sake of the Rider before, and now, they would only… _postpone_ their togetherness for the lives of the many. When they finally stopped, they were kneeling before one another; foreheads touching and hands on each other's faces; smiles still touching their lips. Things felt… _normal_. Moods altered accordingly, it could have been any other moment, any other day, any other light-hearted and often intentionally insulting conversation.

_Aha… _- Murtagh's lips twitching mischievously –_ Your destiny has suddenly become clear!_

_Oh really? Do share this epiphany_ she requested through a flash of teeth.

_Why…The Rider of course_ – He said solemnly – _Think of the countless days spent keeping him in such immaculate condition! I would certainly hate to see all our efforts go to waste. He will need someone to watch over him and keep him in line, and I think we both know that that sister-figure of yours is hardly cut out for the task. Therefore, the chore lies with you_

His lips clamped shut, holding back the whoop of laughter that came hand in hand with his suggestion. Lia eyed him incredulously.

_You will not risk me joining you in the fiery pits of hell, but you will damn me to a lifetime of servitude to that snivelling imbecile?! _ she choked.

_And there I was thinking that you actually rather liked him _ he replied shrewdly.

_I like you more_ she said, running the tip of her tongue across the outline of his lips.

He touched hers with his own briefly, shivered and then smiled hugely.

_My dear Lady, will you please stop tempting me to stay alive_

_You mean to say that you would risk becoming_ _the slaughterer of thousands for the sake of a kiss? _ she asked innocently.

Tilting her face up to his, he moved a finger to her bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut when her tongue moved across his fingertip.

_I would prefer to leave that question unanswered…_

Grinning wickedly, she pulled him into a kiss that threatened to sway his moral duties. Their clothes disappeared in the blink of an eye and they participated in what they considered to be the _second_ thing that they did best. But there was a new passion here, a new intensity with which they groped for the other. There was no alternative path to choose… maybe there _had_ never been. Either way, with what little time they had left, they would embrace it in the only way that seemed fit.

Leaning against the counter, with her head cocked to one side, Hepzibah listened to the sound of the warrior venting her grief. It had been inevitable; for contrary to whatever the warrior believed, she was nothing but a young girl. They were _all _too young. _Far _too young to be fighting this way, risking their lives and facing such responsibilities.

How old were they? Seventeen? Eighteen? Nineteen at the most? And yet, here they were... every last one of them old before their time. It was wrong for the young to bear such burdens, to make such decisions and face such hardships. These were pleasantries to be saved for the world of adults – not children. Was that not the point of childhood? To be innocent and free? _Innocence_. Her lips curved at the word. There was little innocence under her roof during these times. Did such a thing exist in their world? Not that she cared for them… _any_ of them for that matter. Why should she?

Hepzibah did not know how to care and she did not wish to learn. She had not survived this long by considering the emotional welfare of others. Indeed, what difference did it make to her if Morzan The Forsworn _did _return? Of course the deaths would be regrettable, but with war and the spilling of blood came business, and _that_ was what mattered the most. If there was one thing Hepzibah prided herself upon; it was her neutral status amongst the people. Her business was open to all – the _good_… the _bad_ – these people were welcome customers, no more no less. Whatever came to pass, she would win either way.

Casting her eyes downward, she wondered how long it would be, before the warrior would make the request? Would she lift the spell that would free her love? Or would she foolishly take matters into her own hands? Whether she did or no was of little consequence. It would all be over soon, one way or another and then, Hepzibah would be rid of their unwelcome company. Sighing contentedly, she made her way up the stairs and to her chamber.

Since their partaking of more _favourable_ activities, conversation had long ceased. And as always, soon after, Murtagh and Lia found themselves entwined in their usual, tangled embrace. Lia lifted her head from his shoulder and climbed up onto his chest. Folding her arms neatly, she rested her chin on top of them and peered down at him.

_We still have time_ Murtagh said conversationally, his tone aloof.

_How long?_ she asked, just as casually.

_A few days maybe?_ – He replied, scrunching his brows together in thought – _He is not ready. Not yet_

She nodded accordingly. After all, he _would_ know.

_So… what do you intend to do with the time you have left? _

The accompanying wink and wiggle of her eyebrows caused him to chuckle, crush her to him and plant a wet kiss on her cheek. Grimacing, she rubbed at the damp patch. Watching her, he continued to laugh quietly to himself.

_Well, as it happens, I have been thinking _he announced with a sly smile.

_About what exactly?_

Of course she had already known the answer, however, she felt obliged to fulfil her role and ask.

_Dying _he stated plainly.

_What about it?_

_It is too…_ he began and then struggled to find the right word.

_Easy?_ she offered.

Bobbing his head in assent, he waved an important finger before her face.

_Now, please. Do not mistake me. I accept it. I accept that I am required to die in the most undignified fashion I could ever imagine, for the sake of countless ungrateful bastards who would no doubt kill me on sight. But I refuse to leave this place with that as the last memorable thing that I do _

That much, she could respect and understand. It was their nature to think in such a way.

Did you have anything in mind?

_Well I was hoping that perhaps you could throw some colourful suggestions my way? _ he replied with a sheepish smile.

Pursing her lips, her eyes slanted to the side as she thought.

_You could… march around the castle with your arse hanging out? Wait… my mistake… you've already done that _she said with a mock scowl and snap of her fingers.

Grinning, he stared upwards at the nothingness and she felt his body relax beneath her. Moving a finger in small circles across his chest, she left him to his thoughts… as much as she could. When she next looked upon his face, she caught a whisper of his thoughts and saw snippets of what was passing through his mind. His expression began to change. With each image, her eyebrows arched higher and higher, until they could progress no more. Smiling up at her angelically, he waited for the inevitable.

_You cannot be serious!_ she blurted out.

_Why not?_ he asked, a small frown on his lips.

_It's… I… you…. Well if you want to save yourself the job of doing yourself in, congratulations! I think you just found it! _ she stammered.

_Maybe it is a bad idea_… he pondered.

_It is a stupid idea_ she confirmed.

_But you have to admit… the timing is… appropriate_ – He continued conspiratorially - _ His army lost a battle; his Shade is dead. All his concentration is focused on the Varden. All that I have to contend with is he and the Twins…_

The way in which he discussed the matter was so simple, Lia had to try her hardest not to laugh, or punch him on the nose. It was difficult to tell which urge was the more tempting.

_Not that I wish to stomp on your ego my good sir, but may I kindly remind you that unlike our beloved Saviour, the King is a real Rider and a master of the dark arts._

_So you think that I cannot kill the king?_ he qualified.

_No. I do not think that you can kill the king. I do however think that you can die trying_ she informed him with a tight grin.

Tugging at a strand of her hair, his lips twitched, before he lifted his chin an inch or two and gave her a condescending once over. It moved from her face to her chest, where his eyes then lingered, until she issued a calm slap to regain his attention. Once his eyes were back on hers, he slipped back into his imitation of a seemingly superior being.

_Maybe I will succeed and then, who will have the glory of defeating Galbatorix? I. Murtagh, son of Morzan. What say you to that, wench? _he gloated happily.

Rolling her eyes, Lia threw him a disparaging look.

_There will be no glory because you will not accomplish a damn thing. Not by yourself, not without aid. It is folly!_ she insisted, tugging a strand of his hair in turn.

_You are just jealous that I have the chance to do it and you don't_ he taunted childishly.

Glowering at him, she sighed in exasperation and then pulled a disgruntled face.

_Fine!…Maybe you are right… maybe just a little… but that is neither here nor there_

_Are you saying that if you were I, you would simply allow the opportunity to pass you by? _he asked unnecessarily.

_That is not the point_ she stated tersely.

I only wish to find some way to die with honour he pointed out with a curve of his lips.

_If you go through with that ludicrous plan, you will fail and the only thing you will die from is embarrassment _she promised him, pretending to poke him in the eye.

He grabbed her finger in a fist and a slow, enticing grin spread across his face. It was contagious.

_Lia_

_What_?

_Can you enter the castle?_

Brow creasing, she considered her options. They were not good. She only had the one.

_I can buy the time to enter, but my means of access are non-existent. Why, to enter the grounds I would need to be shot over the walls! _she laughed mirthlessly.

Eyes widening in a perfect moment of clarity, his grin broadened.

Realising the implication of her words, she covered her mouth and stared at her partner in amused horror.

_No! _- She gasped - _Surely not! Surely even you would never suggest such a thing?!_

His smile told her that he would.

_The killing of a king is a rather grand task _– He confessed without shame -_…And to take him alone, why…that would be the act of a fool, would it not? Therefore, as you so considerately brought to my attention, it would be prudent for me to be accompanied another. Now, as much as I would thoroughly enjoy a fight to the death with you alone by my side, I think we both know that in order to fight a Rider, you really do need… a Rider_

Spluttering, Lia made a gesture with her hands that could have meant anything. Murtagh gauged her reaction with comical interest.

_But…we are discussing Eragon! This is the boy who cowers in corners, loses fights to women and blasts beings off their feet when it is least expected! The boy has no control! What could he possibly do?!_ Lia laughed.

_He can get you both in_ he pointed out.

And then?!Then we can do the rest he finished confidently.

_We can, can we? _she smirked.

_Of course! All we have to do is leave the finishing blow to that village idiot, because heaven forbid we should take credit for a deed so brilliant_

_Well, if you are inviting the Rider, why don't I invite the rest of them and make it a real celebration?_ she suggested jokingly.

_The more the merrier _– He agreed with her completely -_ After all, this is hardly just about wreaking revenge. This is about good old fashioned fun_

It was only then that she realised that he was being absolutely serious and a new feeling stirred within her. Desire. One last fight. One last chance. The two of them, together, one last time.

Us… against Galbatorix… and The Twins… she mused, rubbing her chin.

_It could be entertaining _- He grinned - _Although I do have one request…_

_Name it_

_The Twins… are ours_ he said darkly.

Memories passed between them. Their arrival to the mountain, the training grounds, the walk through the cave, the explosion and finally, the torture. Yes. They had earned the sole right to extinguish those two lives by whatever means they deemed necessary.

_Well, when you put it like that_… she replied with a menacing curl of her lip.

Do I take that as a yes?

_Let me see…little hope for success, the potential taste of glory, an opportunity for revenge, babysitting the Rider and a high mortality rate. How you spoil me! _she grinned.

_I do indulge you far too often _he sighed theatrically.

Pouting her lips, she made her eyes round and wide, fluttering her lashes at him in a pleading manner.

_A female that chooses carnage over poetry and flowers…you really are the perfect woman _he stated proudly.

Leaning in to plant a single congratulatory kiss on her lips, she accepted it and returned it again… and again… until as always, the distraction proved a little too tempting to pass by. This time, however, Lia was the virtuous being. Leaning away, she cleared her throat. When he tried to raise his face to hers, she pinned it back down to the ground, with a finger pressed to his forehead. Settling for a less unorthodox method of retaliation, he dropped his hands from her shoulders and went for her sides. His partner, who was shamefully ticklish, collapsed gasping in a fit of laughter. Rolling her over, he took the primary position on top.

_Now where were we?_ he asked with a devious smile.

We were…discussing a reunion of old friends?_We were?_

He frantically searched his memories for any occasion that he had ever labelled Eragon as a "_friend_". He found none.

_So easily distracted…_ she noted with a shake of her head.

_Would you care to distract me some more?_ he asked, lifting an encouraging brow.

_Tempting, but I believe that there is a serious flaw in your plan._

_Actually, I believe I have never thought of a plan where so many things could go so devastatingly wrong _he admitted with a dry chuckle.

_Well, apart from the countless possibilities of failure, there is the small question of how the hell does the Rider get here. Yes, I know the Rider has a dragon and dragons can fly. But I seriously doubt that seeing a several thousand ton dragon flapping through the air will aid our need for stealth. So, with that as a starting point, do you have any suggestions?_

_How about the way in which you so conveniently arrived?_

_The spell was a dangerous one and one that I cannot divulge to another- that much was made expressly clear_

_Do you know what else has been made wonderfully clear?_

_What?_

_That damn herbalist is nothing but a scheming wench, who I wouldn't trust to save my own life. I am not saying that you should doubt her words, but I do believe you have another witch at your disposal. _

_Hmmmm… I wonder_

_There is only one way to find out_

_Shall I? _Lia asked_._

_Please do - _Murtagh nodded_ - And while you're at it, you can ask her to lift this damn protection_

_You think that wise?_

_Not really, but if we are in for a fight, I would sooner make it a fairer one by not being invincible. It doesn't really pose much of a challenge, does it? There is little fun in experiencing no pain. It is rather annoying actually _

Very well, I shall see what I can do

Sliding from underneath him_,_ she rose to her feet. After a quick mussing of his hair, Lia vanished into the realm of her reality.

Approaching the dungeon, there was a hall. Along this hall, there was a door. Behind this door, there was a cell. Inside this cell, there was a cage and kneeling before it, there was a twin. Slipping a pale finger between the rusty bars, he smiled. Tendrils of black smoke tentatively reached out to greet him. The delicate wisps curled around the bars and wound affectionately around the intruding article. From inside the cage, there came a high pitched whine, which the bald headed man greeted with a series of soothing sounds.

"I _understand_," the twin spoke softly, lovingly. "Too _long_ it has been since you have ventured past these four walls…You are _weary_…You are _hungry_… But weep not…for your time has _come_."

Whatever existed between the bars was shrouded in a thick, cloud of smoke. At the prospect of release, the black mass pressed itself against the bars and the metal groaned. Standing behind the bald headed man, his brother chuckled fondly.

"Offer the _scent_," he instructed.

Rolling up a sleeve of his robe, the kneeling twin pressed his forearm between a gap in the bars. Swarming around it rapidly, the smoke-concealed entity began to grow in size. It continued to do so, until it could expand no more. A cold shriek was issued from within. It was not a sound of fear, but triumph.

"_Yes_…" the bald headed man cooed. "Take _her_ scent…_feed_ your senses…remember it well…"

Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded to his brother. "Open the portal."

With a casual wave of his hand, the air inside the dark, musty room began to shimmer and change. The image presented was one of an alleyway. Houses could be identified in the distance, as could the stars that hung in the night sky. It was a passage to the outside world. Stepping aside, the twin motioned to the welcoming scene. Removing his arm, the other rose and stepped away from the cage.

"_Find_ her," he commanded the swirling darkness. "Find her and _feed_. _She_ is yours for the _taking_, but be sure to _leave_ the _rest_! Need I remind you the price of _disobedience_?"

Shrinking towards the back of its prison, the smoke began to writhe in evident discomfort. The twin smiled, snapped is fingers and the bars that held the being crumbled to ash.

"Now _go_. Go and return only when the _deed_ is _done_!"

The creature awaited no further instruction. Like a cannonball, it shot through the portal, leaving behind only a trail of thin, dark, mist. Moving either side of the gateway, the twins gazed out into the night.

"And _now_?" one asked.

His brother's eyes slowly moved in the direction of the dungeon. "We do all that is left…"

They began to chant.

Climbing back up the stairs, Lia gently opened the door and stepped into the front of the store. Stalking past Albert, she headed for the only other door and quietly climbed up the narrow set of steps. At the top, there was a door handle, which she turned with care and stepped inside Hepzibah's chamber. There, the woman lay fast asleep, snoring loudly. With a quarter smile, Lia inched her way to the side of the bed that Hepzibah faced and crouched down in front of her.

"I have a question for you," Lia asked loudly.

"Shit!" Hepzibah swore, pulling her covers up to her chin.

Lia smirked. "Funny, I didn't quite see you as the easily scared type."

"Well I didn't see you as the sneaking-into-people's-bedrooms-in-the-middle-of-the-night type!" the woman shot back, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and wearing a peeved expression.

"Teleportation," Lia began.

Hepzibah groaned loudly, her slightly raised head slamming back down against her pillow. "Well _there_ is the start to a bloody long conversation."

"It doesn't have to be if you tell me what I need to know," Lia pointed out with an easy smile.

"Fine, _what_ do you need to know?" the woman grumbled.

"How would we teleport someone to this location?"

"If you are referring to your lover, don't even _think_ about it. If it were possible, I would have done it and been rid of you all a _long_ time ago."

"_Charming_, but it is not _he_ that I refer to."

"Someone outside the castle?"

"_Obviously_."

"Well, you obviously know _something_ about the means of this particular form of travel. So why don't you first tell me what _you_ know?"

"I cannot." Lia frowned.

Hepzibah laughed bitterly. "Oh dear, well that says it _all_ I'm afraid; my cursed sister and her tricks. Let me guess, you had to chose two other to bring with you?"

Lia hesitated, before nodding. _That_ part of the ceremony had not been deemed particularly secret.

"Bloody hell," the woman snorted. "What a piece of work."

"It worked didn't it?" Lia argued.

"It would have worked _anyway_! You never needed _anyone_ other than _yourself_. _My_ guess is that she had something in store for your little friends."

"I… I didn't _need_ them?!" Lia's eyes bugged in rage, but she held her temper in check.

It was too late for anger now. Seeing the girl's ignorance, Hepzibah only shook her head and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"I can bring someone here, if I have a _part_ of them," the woman confirmed.

"Define a _part_?"

"The most commonly used item would be hair."

"_Hair_…" Lia mused and then a slow smile lit up her face. "I think that can be arranged."

Stepping away from the bed, the woman reached out and grabbed her arm.

"You are looking _far_ too happy considering all that I have told you this night… _who_ is it you wish for me to bring here?" the woman asked suspiciously.

Lia gave a tight grin. "Oh, _that_ would be a surprise."

Hepzibah's jaw set and one brow shot up. The warrior smiled wider, imagining the look on the woman's face when the identity of the person was revealed. Now _there_ would be a priceless expression. As if she didn't already harbour enough "_wanted_" people under her roof. Barely suppressing a laugh, she broke free of the woman's grasp, stopping when she reached the door.

"And one last thing," Lia added more seriously.

"_What_?" the woman asked, sounding agitated.

"Lift the protection," the girl ordered.

Then, she left.

Erika was the first to feel it. Like a sound that wakes you from the deepest sleep, her lids sprang open and she was aware that something was different and something was very wrong. At first she thought that it was a noise that had woken her. Checking for signs, she heightened her senses and listened hard. From all around, she could hear the soft snoring of the whores who slept on the floor above and beneath her, she could hear the beating of Jacob's heart and the rhythmic, comforting sound of his breathing. As she rose and fell with each rise and fall of his chest, she felt her eyes slipping shut once more. Not to sleep, never to sleep – but only to some state of relaxation. Then she felt it again, and _this_ time, she knew that it was no sound. Something was different. Something had changed. Something _else _was inside the building… and they were not alone.

Slowly, she reached out a hand and clamped it over Jacob's mouth. When his eyes opened and he struggled against her hand, she motioned for him to be silent and then gestured her head towards the door. He followed her eyes and gave her an odd look. He couldn't sense it. She wasn't surprised, but still – he was her charge and she was to keep him safe. Slipping away from him, she picked her dress up from the floor, slipped it over her head and searched the room for a place to hide. Against the far wall, there was a wardrobe. Opening the door, she jerked her head inside. Frowning, he stayed put. She felt whatever it was growing closer and lost patience. Storming towards him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him up.

"_What_?" he asked angrily.

"_Inside. Now_," she hissed through her teeth.

"_Why_?" he demanded, his body tense.

There was no time for his questions. She had no choice but to act.

"You will not utter a sound and you will climb into that wardrobe and stay there until I tell you otherwise," she whispered, unleashing the full power of her eyes on him.

She saw him trying to fight it, but this time, there was no competition. Her will was the stronger one and he was forced to obey. He was not beyond glaring though, and made a point of keeping his furious eyes on her every step of the way, until the wardrobe door was closed. Safe in the knowledge that he was locked up and out of her way, Erika prepared herself to deal with whatever it was that had entered the building. She had two choices… she could meet it head on or…she could wait and see if it would come to her. There was a crackle in the air, a current of power that caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. _Interesting_. Whatever it was… it was powerful indeed. The important question however, was who was the more powerful and did she want to find out? Her ego argued that her abilities gave her an advantage, but still…

Whilst she contemplated her course of action, she heard the door handle creak and begin to turn. It seemed that the decision had been made for her. Preparing a string of spells that had never failed her before, she began to pad backwards towards the window. The door opened with a long, ominous groan and at first there was nothing. Then, dark mist began to creep around the corner, testing the air. And slowly, a dark mass emerged; roughly the height and width of the door that it came through. Erika felt her insides turn to ice and felt empty, with a cold that she had never felt before – _fear_. She wanted to ignore it, but some instinct was telling her that she should be _afraid_. Whatever this was, it was dangerous. Snarling, the strange girl refused to give in to this anxiety. _Fear_ was the thing that got people killed. _Actions_ saved you. She had speed, she had her spells, she had –

The black mass was upon her before she could launch a spell or move. It spun around her faster than she had ever believed possible and trapped in the middle of this vortex, the air was drawn from her lungs and she was gasping for breath. No, not only did this whirlpool of darkness take away her means to live, it was taking something else – her _essence_ – her _soul_ – her _magic_. She could feel everything being drawn from her and there was nothing that she could do about it. Nothing at all. So _this_ was what it felt like to die? How curious that she would die protecting _another_, especially another under the request of a girl that she _loathed_. How could this be happening? How could she –

There was no more air. Her mouth continued to work, opening wide, trying to inhale that which wasn't there. Face turning blue, Erika fell to her knees and then to her side. Her long fingers scraped at the wooden floor, nails breaking and tearing as she clawed at the ground with what little strength she had left. This was it. The end. It was coming. She only had seconds left. Forcing her mouth closed, she clamped her eyes shut, as the last of her being was drained from her weak and pathetic frame.

From the crack in the wardrobe, Jacob continued to fix his cold eyes on the strange girl that had manipulated him for the last time. When she released him from this spell, he was going to have words with her and maybe then they could… Shaking his head furiously, he tried to clear the fog of lust from his brain. It was unavoidable. One could not look at her and not have such thoughts. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, he only watched and waited for the silliness to pass. What game was she playing now?

Considering it was a game of some sort, she was taking it very seriously. The door opened. He expected to see one of the whores stumble in, but instead there was…a thing. There were no words to describe what it was, other than a black fog. He found himself shivering and not knowing why, and it dawned on him that she had put him in here for his safety. But what of _hers_? She looked… scared… vulnerable. He did not think that she could ever look such a way. He had not known her for more than a night, but he already knew that this was not a face that she would allow others to see. Then, the fog was on her, circling her like a dark tornado with her at its centre. It travelled so fast, that he could still see her form and she was trapped inside! There had to be _something_ that he could do, but her spell held him tight!

Grinding his teeth, he fought against it, but he could not move. Then, he saw her fall to the ground and he knew that he only had seconds left to act. Concentrating hard, he squeezed his eyes and fought one last time. His lips were the first to move, opening wide, allowing his roar to erupt. And then, his limbs were free and he barrelled from his place of hiding. Was he too late? How long had she been lying there? It didn't matter. There had to be time. There _had _to be. Not knowing what to do, Jacob ran at the fog with fists bunched. No sooner had he made contact, when he was thrown backwards with such force, that he hit the furthest wall with a bone jarring crash.

Dizzily, he scrambled back to his feet. The fog was no longer near the girl, but hovering a few feet away from him and growing in height. Intimidation from a strange, black mass. _Wonderful_, he thought. _I have no idea what I'm doing_, he groaned to himself. Looking to his side, he saw the remains of a chair that he must have hit before his impact. Grabbing a chair leg, he held it in front of him and bared his teeth.

"Alright you _bastard_, come and _get_ it!" he growled and then, attacked.

Erika waited for death, but it wasn't coming. She was annoyed now. How dare she be killed and then left in this state?! Then she realised that she was capable of thought and … she was breathing! How had she started breathing without even realising it?! But she was. Air was entering her lungs and she could feel everything within her. Her being, her energy, her magic – it was all there, as if it had never been touched. How? Why? Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was Jacob standing with a piece of wood as his only weapon, and the monster standing before him.

Jacob began to run and her heart leapt in her throat. He pulled back his arm and struck at the monster and at the same time, the fog pulled back a tendril and shot it forwards. There was a moment when everything was perfectly still. The fog held fast and Jacob froze; brow furrowed in momentary confusion and then his fist opened and his weapon thudded to the ground. The tendril retracted and Jacob frowned up at the fog. Staggering backwards, Erika noticed a steaming hole near the centre of his chest. Looking down at it, Jacob blinked and then hit the ground like a stone.

Before his body touched the ground, Erika was on her feet and her spell was cast. It was the most dangerous spell she knew and cost her greatly, but without a spoken word, the fog-shrouded monster began to writhe and wail and then, with a flick of her fingers, the creature exploded in a million pieces and vanished. Where to, she did not know and did not care. Running to the young man, she fell to her knees, skinning them as they scraped across the floor, but she paid the pain no heed. Lifting his head onto her lap, she reached down to the wound and saw that she could see right through to the other side. His eyes fluttered open and he drew one rattling breath.

"_Y- you're…a- alive_?" he wheezed.

He coughed and blood tricked from his lips. Something wet splashed his forehead and he looked up to see that the strange girl had tears in her eyes. He forced a smile and then winced in pain. Trying to look down, he could see nothing.

"_Am I... going to be alright_?" he asked.

It was near his time. The loss of blood was taking him to the edge of consciousness. There was _nothing_ she could do for him. Gripping his shoulders, she drew her face closer to his.

"_Why_?" she demanded shakily. "_Why_ did you save me? _Why_ didn't you leave me to die?"

Giving her a strange look, he laughed. The pain caused him to gasp and his hand shot up, grabbing her around the neck and drawing her face closer.

"_Because…you made me feel alive_," he whispered.

And then his hand dropped.

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

He didn't reply.

"_Jacob_…?"

His lids were closed, but there was a half smile on his face.

"_You didn't owe me anything_…" she said through her teeth, before throwing her head back and screaming. "_Why_?!"

And then, she threw her arms around his dead body and cried.

Sneaking beside her sleeping friend's form, Lia carefully lifted her friend's head and exchanged the rolled up cloak that lay beneath it with her own. Ella, deep in her sleep, showed no sign of waking. Unrolling the girl's cloak, Lia searched for what she hoped to find and there, catching her eye, was the one thing that she was after; one single, golden hair from the Rider's head. Grinning triumphantly, she plucked it up and held it in a tight fist. The door opened and Hepzibah entered, grunting a greeting and heading straight for the cauldron. Approaching her, Lia opened her palm and thrust it under the woman's nose.

"Will _this_ be enough?"

The woman fired her a mistrusting look, but nodded and then pulled a face.

"Let me guess… the calling of this person, does it somehow fall under this convenient _bind_ that you hold me in?"

"However did you guess," Lia beamed.

The woman sighed. "I'm going to _hate_ you for this, aren't I?"

"No more so than usual," Lia replied with a shrug that didn't fool Hepzibah one bit.

"_Tell _me it will all be over soon," she grumbled.

"It will," Lia replied, a hint of sorrow creeping into her tone.

Before the woman could say more, the warrior turned and left.

"Leaving so soon?" the woman asked over her shoulder.

Lia paused in her tracks. "I have a few last minute arrangements to make, but I shall return."

"_Goody_," Hepzibah muttered under her breath.

Seating herself by Ella's side, Lia closed her eyes, hand still clenched around the single hair, and went to her partner.

_Back already?_ he asked.

_We have a means of transportation…although there is one final problem. Contacting Saphira. The distance alone may deem my attempts useless. _

_You fear you may fail?_

_It is a possibility _she shrugged.

_In the event of such an outcome, what would you advise?_

_You may wish to consider a change in plan _

_Hmmm... - _He replied thoughtfully - _I believe I have a sufficient alternative_

He sent her a series of images that had _nothing_ to do with saving the world and more to do with the antics that had been keeping them occupied since their reunion.

_Consider it duly noted and approved_ she replied with flushed cheeks.

_Then please proceed with your call, but may I make a suggestion?_

_Please do_

_Let us refrain from divulging any information regarding the nature of my… condition_

_Ah yes_ – She agreed – _Thus preventing any form of classical Rider overreaction. Something we can most definitely do without_

_Then again… _ – He objected with a crooked smile – _It could be just like old times?_

Snorting a laugh, she sat in his welcoming embrace and closed her eyes in preparation of the coming attempt.

_Was there anything else that you wished to add?_ she asked before committing herself to the task.

Nothing that springs to mindThen I shall begin

Concentrating with all her might, she began to project her consciousness, reaching out for the only other, whom she would approach in such a way. Warm lips touched the side of her neck, moving up towards the hollow behind her ear. Eyes still closed, she shivered and her lips twitched.

My dear sir… are you attempting to sabotage your own plan?

She felt his lips move into the shape of an unmistakable smile, but they never stopped and Lia made no attempt to dissuade them.

With Saphira's every exhalation, her Rider's hair shot upwards standing on end and then flopped back down. It happened over and over again. Each time, his hair becoming messier than the last. It had grown, she noted for the first time. Where it had once been short and tidy, it was now longer, tangled and in some strange way, it suited him. If it were darker in colour, she would have been reminded of Murtagh…

Murtagh… Lia…

Releasing a sad plume of smoke from her nostrils, she inched herself towards the edge of the lee and lay her head by Eragon's side. He did not look at her, but his soft, warm hand crept to her snout and remained there. How long had they sat like this? How many times had they left the confines of the dragon hold? Once? Twice? Only when absolutely necessary. What were they doing here? What did this nothingness achieve? Simply that… _nothing_. What was it that kept them here? Their grief, a memory… or was it fear?

They had trusted the herbalist's words, but the unknown fate of their friends weighted heavily on their hearts. She had wondered whether this new time together alone would prove to be a positive change; but since the disappearance of the others, they had only been miserable. So much was to be done and it seemed impossible. Leaders dead, politics and talk of training in hidden places far away. It was all happening at once and neither of them had the heart, or the will to see it through. Not anymore. Together, it seemed they were not strong enough. In their time of need, they had always had a mentor… or a friend. Now, they had nothing. They were alone and the world seemed a darker, lonelier place. Conversation had become sparse and all they could do was share each other's pain. There was nothing she could do for him. Not whilst they were so consumed by their sorrow. Unfurling her winds, she prepared to take flight.

_Saphira?_ Lia called out.

Snapping her wings shut, she threw her head backwards and roared. Eragon, taken by surprise, nearly topped over the edge. Steadying himself at the last second, he leapt to his feet, grabbed her scaly head and moved it down to his own.

"What is it?!" he demanded nervously.

_It is Lia!_ she cried out in joy.

Throwing his arms around her head in relief, she allowed him to hear Lia's thoughts as well as her own.

_Lia!_ both Eragon and Saphira cried out.

With the sounding of two shrill cries and an amused grunt reverberating inside her skull, Lia felt a small explosion of pain in the back of her mind. Ignoring it, she grinned.

_Did you miss me?_

_Well they were hardly going to miss me_ Murtagh pointed out wryly.

_Murtagh!!_ the dragon and Rider exclaimed in delight.

Murtagh's brows shot up in genuine surprise. Lia fought the oncoming headache.

_Bloody hell…_ he exclaimed.

_You're alive!?_ Eragon yelled, stunned.

_Wait_ – Murtagh said, sounding unsure – _No fluffy white clouds, no nude women and the fact that you are here…Hmm…If this is heaven, then I think that I should have misbehaved a hell of a lot more_

_But... but how?!_ The Rider stammered.

_Save your questions Rider. Right now, there are more important issues at hand_

_You are both alive! That is all that matters! And Ella?! Is she with you?! Is –_

_Rider!_ – Lia cut in – _Please. There is no time. To answer one of your questions, yes, Ella is safe. But we are here with a proposition._

_You... You mean to tell me that the both of you have been alive all this time and you only thought to contact us now?!_ Eragon spluttered and raged.

Leaning into Lia, Murtagh muttered in her ear.

_And you were hoping to avoid a Rider tantrum… silly you_

Lia tried very hard not to grin. She could feel the Rider's fuming presence, hand in hand with Saphira's more composed nature. How good it felt to have them back. Anticipating her Rider's rant, Saphira used the moment to speak.

_As you have undoubtedly interpreted, both Eragon and I are relived that the both of you are alive and well and respect that your lack of contact can be explained in due time._

_Thank you_ Lia replied, grateful for the words.

_To business?_ Murtagh suggested.

_To business_ she agreed, gesturing him to begin.

_We have a plan and we could use your help Rider_ – he stopped and then shook his head with a mocking smile – _Well there is a sentence I never thought I'd say_

_Need me? Why?_ Eragon asked, sounding dazed.

_For your patience and your calm under pressure_ – Murtagh replied dryly- _Why on earth do you think?! You are a Rider, are you not? And we come with a task that is worthy of your cause_

Eragon said nothing, but they felt his consciousness shift towards Saphira.

_But, the herbalist said –_

_The herbalist has said a lot of things_ – Lia said darkly –_ Who will you allow to shape your destiny? The words of another, or the choices of your heart?_

_Well?_ Murtagh demanded

_What is it that you wish to do?_ Eragon asked.

_Kill Galbatorix_ Lia answered, her voice steady and sure.

There was a long pause, before the Rider next spoke.

_I have undergone no training… my skills are limited...my acts of power temperamental… you know this… and yet you think I am ready?_

_This is not how it is meant to be_ – Saphira added, sounding equally thrown – _What you speak of is the ultimate goal! A task that requires years of preparation… and you say that you wish to try now? Even before the beginning has even begun?_

_Only the Rider, Saphira_ – Lia said slowly, regretfully – _Your presence, I am afraid would only spoil the one advantage we have; the element of surprise…_

Taking this new information into account, Saphira gave the only answer that was acceptable, and she did so with the authority that was rightfully hers.

_Not only do you ask my Rider to engage in a task that is beyond his capabilities, but you also require him to do so without my aid? What you ask is too much. Much too much. I cannot allow it. I am sorry, but my answer is final._

Silence fell between the four. Speaking to Murtagh alone, Lia shrugged nonchalantly.

_Did you honestly believe that it would be so easy?_

_Shamefully, I did. The dragon's good sense escaped my thoughts_

_Saphira will not be swayed. It would be futile to try_

Murtagh sighed, the sound holding little in the way of regret.

_Well… you know what this means?_

_I do?_

_This would be the time when we admit defeat and embrace plan b)_

_I couldn't agree more_ she smirked.

Bringing their attention back to the others, Lia was aware that Saphira and Eragon had taken a similar course of action. Although she was unable to hear their words, alien emotions were running high, ranging from desperate fear to outright anger.

_How do you stand this?_ - Murtagh grumbled in discomfort – _So many feelings! My head hurts and this isn't even my head!_

_I don't_ Lia replied, wincing in pain.

The burning, building agony was a clear sign that she could not keep this up for much longer. Sensing her pain, Murtagh attempted to take some of it away. It brought her temporary relief and he reached for her hand.

_Let us leave_ he suggested out of concern.

_Yes_ she agreed.

Turning their minds towards the dragon and Rider, they prepared to apologise for their inconvenience and say their farewells. Murtagh, not in the mood for such an exchange, left the words to his partner.

_Fear not Rider_ – Lia assured him – _Saphira's concerns are valid and we honour her decision. Perhaps it was a task unfit for us all. Do not worry yourselves, all will be well. In the meantime, we bid you farewell. Goodbye Eragon… Saphira_

Not wanting to hear their replies, the warrior began to sever her connection.

_Wait!_ A breathless voice called out.

The connected remained… just.

_Rider?_ Lia enquired politely.

_Do you believe in me?_ he asked, his tone desperate.

Slowly, the two warriors exchanged a look. Conversing privately, they contemplated the question.

_Well this has taken an interesting turn…_ Lia stated amusedly.

_Do you feel like taking a chance?_ he grinned.

_Do you?_ she challenged, offering him the opportunity to take over.

He took it with a wide smile.

_We believe in you Rider_ he said, with all the sincerity he could muster and discovered that he honestly did.

_This is madness!_ – Saphira growled – _Have you lost your minds?! If any of you embark on this preposterous mission, you may all die!?_

_I know_ Eragon replied softly.

It was a tone that none of them were accustomed to. Shocked by the statement, Saphira could not speak. Her Rider used the opportunity to talk.

_Saphira… I am tired of this. I am the Rider and what do I do? Nothing. Why? Because I am constantly being protected and kept out of harm's reach. I know I can be stupid and I know I make mistakes and I know that I normally end up doing more harm than good, but I need this Saphira. I need a chance to prove to them that I can do something right. I need to prove to myself that I can do something without constant protection. I love you Saphira and my bond with you is the most important thing in the world, but if we are to ever fulfil our role as protectors of the people, I need to know that I can do it._

_And what if you die?_ – Saphira asked just as softly, just as sadly – _If you die, it will be the end of us and the people will have no protectors. This is not just about your vanity Little One; you must consider the fate of others_

_They will have no fate if the King rules much longer. And if I am in no state to protect them, then they may as well already be dead. This is not about my vanity Saphira; this is about the people… about everything. Can you not feel it? This is no coincidence. Nothing is. You speak of my destiny, but this is it- here and now. They say I am ready and I believe them. We will find a way to take Galbatorix down and we will succeed_

_For heaven's sake Eragon! Think! I cannot help you! I can lend you some power and strength through our bond, but ultimately, you will be alone. In a task such as this, you cannot expect the others to watch out for you! You will each have your own tasks and you will have to act by yourself! You miss_ _your friends Little One, and I understand that, but this is not a chance to see them once more. This is only a means to an early grave… for all of you!_

_I understand that. I understand that there is a chance that we may not succeed. But you have to understand that I do not expect them to look after me. This isn't about being with old friends; it's about doing something right, with the people who can make it happen. If they say I am ready, then I am. And I know that if I were to entrust any two people with the task of dealing with such an affair, I would look no further than them. Even if we fail, it doesn't matter. At least we will have our honour!_

_Not bad Rider_ Murtagh mumbled to Lia.

_Indeed _ she agreed.

_You would leave without my consent?_ Saphira asked indignantly.

_I would_ Eragon stated firmly.

_Even without my support, you would venture there alone?_

_I would climb mountains, run across plains and fight armies to fight by their side to see this end. I am tired of running Saphira. I want to fight_

For a full minute, not a word was spoken and then, there was a heavy sigh.

_I am proud of you Little One…_ Saphira said with unbearable tenderness.

_You consent? _he asked in disbelief_._

I do… and you have my support… as do you all

Murtagh and Lia felt their own pride swelling within them. It seemed that the Rider had grown up after all. Maybe not _completely_, but _enough_…

_Eragon… we would be honoured to have you fight by our side_ Lia said.

_Not that you wish to hear it_ – Murtagh added wryly – _But we will still do our best to keep you in tact. I for one do not want an angry dragon chasing after my arse in the afterlife!_

Saphira rumbled a laugh and sent a wave of affection his way, that made him feel more pleased than he cared to admit. She stopped laughing and honed her concentration on him alone.

You have seen another dragon?!

Confused, Murtagh waited for Lia or Eragon to reply, but they seemed to be distantly chatting between themselves. Somehow, this conversation was solely between him and the dragon.

_Er…yes_

_How?!_

_How can you tell?!_ he asked, baffled.

_I can feel it upon you! Where is this dragon! Tell me!_

_Are you sure you wish to know?_ he asked, uncomfortably.

_Tell me!_ she pleaded.

_I am being held prisoner in Uru' Baen…. The dragon is Shruikan… The dragon of the King…_

Saphira went through a dramatic cycle of emotions, before settling for restless curiosity.

And what of this Shruikan? What is she –

_He_ he corrected her.

She hesitated.

_Very well… what is he like? The dragon of this tyrant_

_In all honesty?_

_For pity's sake man, get on with it!_

_He's not as pretty as you _

At that, she could only laugh and sensing his reluctance to discuss the matter further, she severed their private connection and he sighed in relief, only to become aware of the Rider bursting into another fit.

You are by the castle?! And Murtagh?! You are actually inside the castle?!

_Yes, yes_- Murtagh muttered impatiently – _But look at it in the right way Rider. It certainly has its benefits. Inside information being the winning factor._

_And we have means for you to reach us. A spell _Lia added_._

_How can it be used and when? _Eragon asked_._

_That is yet to be discussed, but rest assured that you shall be informed as soon as possible. In the meantime, we must leave you. But I shall return shortly_

_Of course_ Eragon agreed.

_Farewell, both of you_ Saphira said.

_Farewell _ Murtagh and Lia said as one.

_Wait!_ Eragon called out once more.

_What?_ Lia asked carefully.

Murtagh groaned.

_I really did miss you both_ Eragon said with feeling.

Lia grinned and elbowed Murtagh in the ribs.

_Ugh! Fine! We missed you both too… but only a little _Murtagh growled in protest.

Eragon chuckled and Saphira laughed quietly to herself. Lia grabbed Murtagh's hand and severed the connection. Opening their eyes, Lia smirked and punched him lightly on the shoulder.

_Careful Murtagh, I almost believed you!_ she teased.

_You know_ – he said, sounding surprised and somewhat appalled – _I think I meant it?!_

_This is a sign of the times!_ she laughed.

_Well, I suppose you'd better go and confront the witch. This should make her night!_ he grinned.

_I daresay it will_ she sniggered.

Pulling herself up, she sighed and smiled to herself.

_You look happy_ he stated, a smile tweaking his own lips in turn.

_Is it wrong that I am?_ she asked curiously.

_No. I am happy too_ he replied, touching her hand with his.

_Then why don't I go see Hepzibah and spread some joy?_

_And then?_

_Then I come back here and speak with the Rider?_

_And then?_

_Then we have several hours until dawn…_

_Any plans?_

_Apart from a few rounds of punch-the-son-of-Morzan and then ride him until he can barely walk… none. Why?_

_Just checking_ he beamed.

She beamed back and disappeared.

All around the castle, servants stopped what they were doing. An eerie silence covered the castle grounds and one by one, doors began to open and people began to spill into the halls. Drawn by a sudden need, they walked along corridors and down the wide staircases that spiralled to the ground floor. As the group marched along, more people joined the line. Finally, a mass of at least thirty members of staff began to make their way towards the castle dungeons.

Hepzibah's eye twitched and Lia could see that the woman was trying to find any loophole that would give her grounds to argue. There were plenty, but bound as she was, as long as Lia deemed the request a part of her necessary aid, the woman was obliged to give it.

"The Rider. Here. In my home. I have done much for you girl, but this is taking things _beyond_ too far," the woman spat.

Lia allowed a slow malicious smile spread across her face. The women automatically reached for her throat, feeling her airways tighten.

"_Alright_!" she growled. "But meet me in the _middle_ here. You leave me no bloody choice, but for the sake of the safety of _your _operation and _my_ hide, may I _please_ make a suggestion?"

"Please do," Lia invited.

"Bring him here at the _last _minute! _Neither_ of us need this kind of attention! If he is such a _wonderful_ hero, you can tell him the necessary details when you're on your _way, to do _whatever_ madness_ it is that I want no part of!"

Tilting her head, Lia thought about that and agreed that it was a reasonable request. Nodding her assent, the woman sighed in relief and then held out her hand. Lia gave her the hair.

"How long does the process take?" Lia asked.

"A minute or so," Hepzibah replied. "When do you want him?"

"Tomorrow, at dusk."

"Fine. And as for the matter of your _partner_… consider my work _done_.

Nodding stiffly, Lia turned to leave and then looked back over her shoulder.

"The process by which the Rider will arrive…are there any side effects that are worth mentioning?"

Hepzibah tapped a finger to her chin. "That _depends_…"

"On what?"

"On how much of a sense of humour you have?"

Pausing, Lia considered that and then smiled. "Would whatever it is be revocable?"

Shrugging modestly, the witch grinned. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Grinning back, Lia walked away deciding that some amusement wouldn't go amiss.

When the first wave of servants passed through the cursed barrier before the dungeon, the people behind witnessed the explosion of gore and screamed. But still their legs carried them forward and one by one, they met the same end. Their cries echoed around the castle and no one came, for there was no one left…

Murtagh sat patiently awaiting Lia's return. He heard a noise. Before he could identify it, pain took hold of him and he screamed, falling backwards, hitting his head hard. He felt the impact, but it was nothing to what was happening inside him. It felt as thought his blood has been replaced by acid and it was eating him away. His fingers raked across his arms and legs and clutched at his chest, as his skin began to bubble and writhe.

_Oh no… no, no, NO, NO!_ he screamed again, as the agony grew and the scene became horribly familiar.

It was his nightmare, only he was no longer dreaming and this was real. Lia appeared out of no where and she was running towards him. He wanted to tell her to run, but she was grabbing hold of his arms and trying to hold him down. He could feel things begin to change. His insides began to bubble and churn and alter, he could feel thoughts and needs and feelings that were not his own. He could feel _him_. Except this time, it was _strong_. Murtagh couldn't let him win. Not _now_. Another wave of excruciating pain hit him and an inhuman cry tore from his lips.

_What is it?! Murtagh! Tell me what to do! Murtagh! Please!_ Lia shouted down at him, climbing on top of his chest, pinning him to the ground.

Shaking and convulsing from head to foot, his entire body began to spasm and he was losing control. He closed his eyes, hoping it would go away. It stopped, just as suddenly as it had arrived. He was still. He opened his eyes and he immediately that something was wrong. Lia was staring at him and she no longer looked scared, she looked _horrified_. He wanted to tell her that he was fine, but he found he could not speak. He felt his mouth move, but it was not his words that they spoke.

_Lia! LIA!!_ he yelled.

No one replied.

Lia had felt his agony, and appeared before him in less than a second. He was in pain, he was subject to a fit and there was nothing that she could do. He could barely understand her and she knew what it was and what it meant. All that he saw and felt, she saw too, and it took everything not to fall on the ground writhing beside him. She couldn't lose him. If he were taken now, his soul would be destroyed. Pounding her fists against his chest, she sought to bring him back to her, to stop him seeing the things that he was seeing, to tear his mind away from that which was trying to take him over.

_Murtagh! Don't you dare give up on me! Don't you dare!_ she yelled down at him, grabbing the front of his tunic and trying to pull him back up.

He gave one last spasm and then went rigid. She thought it was over and felt the moisture in her eyes fall. Gasping for breath, she gently lowered his torso back to the ground. Then his eyes sprang open and she couldn't breathe. She knew those eyes. These were not the eyes that reminded her of her nightmares… they were the very _same_.

_Hello my dear_ a dark, velvety voice greeted her and then, a hand shot up and grabbed her around the throat in a vice grip.

Grabbing his hand, she fought to prize it free, but he only squeezed tighter. Her windpipe was being crushed and all she could see were the eyes of her enemy set deep into the face of her love. It was too cruel.

_Yes… he likes you. I think I will take great pleasure in taking you away_ he smiled.

The smile was so angelic and misplaced, that she felt her stomach turn. The bile rushed up her throat, but there was no place for it to go. Choking, she struggled, but to no avail. Tears streamed down her face, as she tried to sense Murtagh and felt nothing there. She was going to die and she was going to die _alone_. Releasing the last of her breath, she used what little she had left to glare at the man. The man who had taken away all that she had ever loved.

Murtagh pounded against the mind that blocked his, shouting and screaming. He could see his hands wrapped around Lia's throat, see the defeat in her eyes and knew that she could not feel him.

_Get your filthy hands off my woman!_ he roared.

Digging deep, he grasped what magic he could feel left and used it along with the last of his will to break free. At the very same moment, another wave of pain hit him. He saw his hand release his partner; he heard the scream of a man dimly in the back of his mind. With whatever power was his, he sealed the door shut, locking his father away… but for how long? Gasping, he felt that his limbs were his own once more and he scrambled across the floor, to where Lia lay gasping. Upon his advance, she shrank backwards and then kicked his feet from underneath him. He landed on his back and she willed a sword to appear.

Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she rested the tip of the blade against his throat and stared down at him with hateful eyes. He could only look up at her with nothing but shame. Dropping her sword, she collapsed against him and sobbed hard. He kept his mouth clamped shut, but the tears leaked out of his closed lids. Too afraid was he to touch her; too afraid was he to look at her. What had he done? What has these hands done? Her body trembled against his and he longed to hold her, but it felt wrong. Clasping his hands to his face, he could hold it in no longer… he sobbed. When she finally tried to move his hands away, he did not allow it. Then he felt her warm lips and damp tears touch each finger and slowly, she prized them away. Her lips then touched his cheeks and his lids and finally his lips. He wanted to apologise to her… but words seemed inadequate… actions seemed inadequate. It was impossible. How could he apologise for what he had done?

_I am… I am so…_ he began and then stopped, his voice trembling as badly as his lips.

_It wasn't you_ she murmured against his lips.

_I love you Lia, I would never_ –

_I know_ she kissed him again and he kissed her back, but gently.

When she pulled away, he stared at the finger marks around her neck and gulped hard.

_Is he there?_ she asked quietly.

_He's gone… for now_

_And our plan?_

_I do not want him to win. I want to see it through, but…_

_But what?_

_Lia, I do not want him to destroy my soul…and I do not want to hurt you…or anyone else _

_I won't let him _she promised, although the fear in her eyes spoke her uncertainty.

…_I have a request…_

_Name it…_

_If… If I cannot see it through…If something happens… and it appears that I am a danger others…will you do it?_

There was no need to ask what "_it_" was.

_I will she replied._

_Lia?_

_Yes?_

_If you have to lead me away from the others… to deal with me… Can you do me one last favour?_

_Anything…_

_Make up something heroic… and tell them that I did it. Add a new chapter to our campfire story… They cannot know my true end…_

_I will take it with me to the grave_

Exhaling deeply, he felt his exhaustion take over.

_I love you Lia_ he mumbled.

_I love you_ she replied, watching him slip away from her.

Lowering herself by his side, she stroked his hair and his expression softened. He almost looked peaceful. Kissing his brow, she pressed her forehead against his.

_I nearly lost you…It will never happen again…I swear to you…You will keep your soul…_

Curling up with her back to his chest, she closed her eyes, reached for Saphira and gave her message for the Rider. Her work done, she slept in the embrace of her lover…one last time.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

The son of Ajihad was weary. Too long these nights now felt. Nights were nothing happened, nights where he could feel the efforts of every last one of them dwindle. Whatever their task, it seemed a fruitless one. Nothing or no one dared to attack the castle or the King. The only noticeable, questionable activity existed _within_ the walls of the imposing building. And whatever was happening, whatever spell was being cast – it was growing stronger. Of course whatever happened inside the protection of The Shield was none of their business and approved by the King. But still… it was difficult to ignore such a feeling. Difficult to not try and feel the edges of the spell and imagine the use for such a power. At a light tap on his shoulder, his lips stopped moving. His relief had arrived. With a brief nod, he left his post and headed toward the one place that he would find comfort, rest and pleasure.

The tavern was unusually quiet. The halls were empty and there was not a woman in sight. The place seemed deserted. Brow creased in frustration, he approached the counter and slammed his fist down upon the small bell. The sound rang around the room and was met by nothing. Angered by the lack of service, he headed straight for the room that was "his". The room that he used to sleep, to indulge himself and to hold meetings with the mysterious woman. Barging through the door, the first thing that he saw was a pool of blood. Following the puddle that stained the wooden floor, he discovered Erika. She was seated with her back against the wall, cradling the head of the dead young man on her lap.

"What happened?!" he thundered.

Without looking away from the face of the deceased, Erika only pointed a finger to the blank spot that existed between them. Taking a step forward, the son of Ajihad was about to demand an explanation, when he felt it; the residue of the creature that had been there. The feeling was not unknown to him. Its origins were no secret and his face turned hard.

"They know…They sent it after you…You are no longer safe here… _He_ has already paid the price… If they know you are here and their creature has been disposed of, they will come _again,_ and _this_ time, they will finish the job _themselves…"_

Erika lifted her head, cold eyes meeting his. "…_Them_?"

"The Twins," he replied. "That…whatever _that_ was…It was of their doing. I may not know the direct result of their work, but as the only spell casters residing in the castle, I am familiar with the feel of their work."

"They… _they_ sent it here…for _me_?" she asked, in a tone so chilling that the son of Ajihad was forced to raise a brow.

"So it would seem…" was all he replied.

Erika became absolutely still. Two words escaped her lips.

"Get Lia."

He complied.

******************************************************

Lia nudged her sleeping friend gently. Ella groaned and then rolled to her side, eyes opening sleepily and yawning massively.

"Is it _that_ time already?" she asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.

"I am afraid so," Lia smiled.

"You have to _love_ these early mornings," Ella chuckled, stifled another yawn and then sat up.

Stretching her arms over her head, she assessed her mentor's face and felt a sudden twinge of worry. Lia didn't particularly look either happy or sad, but there was a questioning look in her eyes that she had never seen before. Somehow, it did _not_ bode well.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.

"There has been a _slight_ change of plan…" Lia began.

"How do you mean?"

"Well… to put it mildly…we are about to do something very, _very_ stupid."

A grin broke across Lia's face, but in her eyes told a different story.

"Define… _stupid_?" Ella asked as casually as she could.

"Murtagh and I are going to take on the King."

Ella gawked. "_That's _a cut above the _usual_ stupid."

"I know," Lia agreed. "Which is why I am allowing you the opportunity to walk _away_. This will be no laughing matter. If things go wrong…If we get caught… Those associated with us will pay the price. You have come this far and for that, you have my everlasting gratitude…but I have put you in enough danger. This is-"

"I don't care _what _this is. If _you _stay, then so do _I_," Ella frowned.

Lia sighed. "There is no way that I can change your mind?"

"_Talk _about _stupid_," her friend muttered.

Nodding, the warrior knew that her attempts had only been carried out with the smallest of hopes.

"Then there is something you should know."

"What?"

"Eragon will be joining us…tonight…This will be our last fight."

Feeling her chest close, Ella gasped – half in fear and half in delight. _Last_ fight? What did she mean? But… _Eragon_ would be here. The four of them would be together once more. Nothing else seemed to matter. Grabbing her friend's arm, Ella squeezed hard and felt the first signs of excitement build up inside her.

"Then we will fight…All of us… Together."

Lia reached out and grabbed Ella's arm in turn. "It would be an honour."

A moment of togetherness passed between them, followed by a smile.

"When?" Ella asked.

"Tonight," Lia informed her.

"Then I suppose we'd better get ready," her friend replied, jumping to her feet.

******************************************************

Hepzibah was by the windows arranging her herbs, when she saw the dark skinned man heading towards the store. Whispering under her breath, she willed the man to walk on by. He met her eyes and dipped his head. There was no escaping _that _form of recognition. Growling under her breath, she marched to the door and opened it wide. Striding past her, he gave the store a brief glance and skipped all formalities.

"Lia. She must come to the tavern. _Now_," he said.

Without a word to the man, Hepzibah opened the door to the underground chamber and hollered.

******************************************************

Standing outside the bedroom door, the son of Ajihad stayed put. Ella stood behind Lia, as her hand rested on the handle. From behind the door, she could hear the sound of dry sobs. Standing on her toes, Ella sought to take a look inside.

"I think you had better stay here…" Lia mumbled.

Ella rolled her eyes and rested against the wall beside the young dark skinned man.

"Yes… because the both of you get along _oh_-so-well."

The son of Ajihad gave her a level look. "_You_ are _young_. There is nothing behind that door that you need to see."

"I don't live a sheltered life," she spat. "I can handle it."

"But can you handle an unstable sorcerer?" he asked, with a crooked smile.

"Unstable _sorcerer_?" Ella cocked a brow. "You mean _Erika_?"

"Of course. She is _dangerous_."

"So it's alright for _Lia _to walk in there, but not for me?" Ella argued.

"Your friend can protect herself. What can _you _do?" he asked condescendingly.

Cheeks burning, Ella's hand flashed for her dagger. He had her arm pinned against the wall in a painful grip, before her fingers had even touched the blade. Ella scowled up at him, humiliated. The son of Ajihad smirked down at her. Lia's face appeared between the both of theirs, bemused.

"I appreciate the point that you are trying to make here for her own safety, but if you have left even a bruise on her arms, you will have to answer to _me_," she warned.

His hand fell away from Ella's arm, which she desperately tried not to rub. Still smirking, he backed away. Folding her arms, her jaw jutted out and she did nothing but glare. Leaving them, Lia took a deep breath and quietly entered the room. The son of Ajihad glanced at the door and jerked his head towards it. Ella raised a brow.

"Care to listen?" he invited.

Too angry to reply, but not stubborn enough to turn down the offer, Ella nodded. The both of them quietly approached the door and pressed their ears to the wood. There was only the slight muffle of voices.

"I can't hear _shit_," Ella grumbled.

The dark skinned man muttered a few words and then, the voices became as clear as if they were standing in the same room.

"Better?" he asked with that same smirk.

This time, she returned it.

******************************************************

Taking small, careful steps, Lia approached the strange girl. She tried to ignore her dead former friend, but she could not. He would have almost looked peaceful, if it were not for the gaping hole in his chest. Erika clutched his head in her hands, fists grabbing handfuls of his hair and mumbling incoherent words under her breath. Rocking back and forth, her skin looked pale and taut – the look of someone who had spent the night crying until the tears could no longer come. Lia knew those nights. They may have taken hold of her years before, but she remembered them only too well. Kneeling beside the girl, she did not say a word, did not move out to comfort her – only watched her with a sorrow that she never knew she could feel toward a rival.

"The _idiot_ gave his _life _for _me_!" Erika finally spat out, her fingers pulling hard, tearing out clumps of his hair. "I treated him like _nothing _and yet, he fought to _save_ me!?!"

Lia gazed down at Jacob's still form and closed her eyes halfway.

"Yes, he always _was_ an idiot. A _selfless_ idiot when it came to helping those for whom he _cared_… I do not know _what_ you did for him, nor do I _wish_ to know… But Jacob was _never _one to act lightly. _Whatever_ it was that you did; you gave him cause to risk himself for _you_. He was _never_ a monster…just…_misled_…Do not mourn him Erika…He took his risk _willingly_ and I think…you gave him something that everyone else could not…"

Unhinging her fingers from his hair, Erika finally moved his head to the floor and turned her eyes away from his.

"His sacrifice was only the _beginning_…My former _masters_ know of my whereabouts…They sought to kill me…I am no longer safe..."

Standing, Lia gestured to the door.

"You have done more than I could have asked and more than I deserved. You are free to leave. You always have been. From tonight, the tables will turn. Plans have changed and the only mission that is left is an assassination. Murtagh, Eragon, Ella and I…we plan to face the King. You have suffered enough."

"But have _they_?" Erika hissed. "After all that they have already done to me, they wish to end my life? Did I really expect anything less? _No_… I suppose I didn't. But _him_…"

Her gaze flashed to Jacob, then away.

"…He had _nothing _to do with it. He had nothing to do with _anything_. It was my job to keep him safe and he _died_. I don't know what this feeling is that burns through my veins. I didn't care for the boy at all, but his actions, his death… they were _unacceptable_. They have gone too far… They misjudged me from the beginning and I held back… but _not_ anymore. I _stay_. I will stay and fight, but not for _you_ or anyone _else_. I stay and fight for _me_…and for _this_ …this _imbecile_. I will show those bastards _exactly _what I am made of – show them what their experiments could _not_. If it means killing them and the man who issued their orders, so be it. My hands have been clean for too long…it is time to stain them with blood."

Lia gave the girl an appraising look. "The plan is yet to be made, but a plan there will be. Will your emotions cloud your judgement, or will you be capable of following orders? I do not intend to rid you of your retribution. However, an error in your part may endanger us all. If we formulate a plan that meets all of our requirements, will you play your part?"

"Will my part involve bloodshed?"

"Undeniably."

"Then I will work by your side this one, _final_ time."

Extending a hand, Lia held it there. Erika glanced at it and then took it. When she was stood on her own two feet, the warrior was still gripping her hand and she gripped it firmly back.

"Then let's make it count," Lia grinned.

"Let's," Erika agreed with a cold smile. "But on _this_ occasion, my services are not for free."

"Very well," Lia acceded. "Name your price."

"Teach me how to fight. It remains the only skill that I lack. Teach me to fight the way that you do."

"It has taken me years," Lia said dubiously.

"It will take me hours," Erika stated with an air of promise. "Teach me and I will be just like you… only better looking…with larger breasts…and longer legs…and then maybe the son of Morzan will see good sense?"

Lia grinned. "Why don't we find out."

"Why don't we," Erika agreed with an enticing smile.

******************************************************

When the voices stopped, the son of Ajihad stared at Ella and Ella's eyes darted to the front entrance. Had Lia _meant_ for him to hear her plan, or had it been an act of pure carelessness? The man could leave them now, foil their plans and order their deaths, before she could even _hope_ to grab a hold of his arm. He continued to stare at her and think. _So…the young man that they sought to save was Murtagh…And they wish to kill the King and face the Twins? Interesting. Foolish, but interesting. _

"_Please_…" she whispered her pathetic plea.

"Please _what_?" he asked, curiously.

"Please…just leave us _be_. They will never know that you were involved. Can't you just _forget_ what you have heard?"

"I _cannot_," he replied gravely.

Ella's heart sank.

"For if I wish to be of any assistance, I shall need to discuss _my_ role further," he grinned.

Gawking after him, she watched as he pushed his way through the door. Erika's eyes slid his way and dismissed him at once. Lia did not even turn to face him.

"Are you _with_ us, or _against_ us?" Lia asked simply.

"I am with nor against _anyone_ – but I _will _provide aid in what little way that I can. But this is _it _warrior – the _last _time."

"I believe tonight will be the last time for a _lot _of things," she stated calmly.

"I believe you are right. _Until_ then, may I be so bold as to make a suggestion?"

"Please," Lia invited.

"_You_ train _this_ one," he gestured to Erika. "And _I_ take the _young_ one."

"I am _not _that much younger than _her_!" Ella fumed, appearing at his side and glowering up at him.

Erika rolled her eyes and Lia smiled.

"It is true," she informed the dark skinned young man. "But where will you take her?"

"_Your _area of expertise is _violence_ – this child can be useful _elsewhere_."

Ella threw her hands in the air. "I am _perfectly _capable of holding my _own_!"

Indecisiveness flashed across Lia's face. Ella saw the reaction before it could be concealed, and felt her throat tighten. She _could _look after herself… she _could_ be useful… Erika smiled smugly and she narrowed her eyes at her. Turning to the son of Ajihad, Ella pursed her lips.

"And what _exact_ use do you have for me?" she demanded.

The young man smiled. "Have you ever tried your hand at _magic_?"

Ella's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small "o". Lia gave him an interested look and Erika snorted her disapproval… or _disbelief_. Whichever it was, it was enough to make up Ella's mind.

"_Fine_," she agreed. "Show me what to do and I _will_ be useful."

"_Ella_…" Lia said softly.

Ella bit her tongue and then sighed. "If you won't let me fight Lia, let me do _this_ much. _This _is why I _stayed_. To _help_. Don't rob me of my chance to make a difference. You think teaching that evil bitch will make her a fighter? Then fine! _I'm_ going with _him_."

The warrior came to stand by her side, a hand touching her shoulder.

"You have _always_ made a difference, just by _being_ here. But I know that it is not what you want, so _go_. Learn from him what you _can_ and…"

"Make you _proud_?" Ella sniffed and shook her head.

Lia paused. "No. Make _yourself_ proud. You are capable of _much_ Ella and you learn quickly. You give me too much credit and your opinion of me is simply _too_ high."

"_I'll _second _that_," Erika said with distaste.

"Do this and prove to yourself that you are _every_ bit as capable as you _know_ you are. You have never needed to prove _anything_ to me Ella…not for a _long _time. From now on, live for _yourself_," Lia insisted, lifting her hand away and turning her back on the girl.

Ella squared her shoulders and faced the door.

"Come on _you_," she said, grabbing a fistful of the young man's robe. "Let's do this."

Flinging her hand away from him, he smoothed out the crease on his robe and threw her an unforgiving look.

"Oh _I'm_ sorry, did I mess up your _clothes_? Stop trying to be so bloody scary! I'm _not _in the mood for it and it's _not_ going to work," she growled.

For a moment, his eyes darkened, but then his lips twitched. He extended her an arm. Taken by surprise, she glanced over her shoulder at the other girls. They bit down on their lips, hiding their smiles. Lia gave her an encouraging nod. Ella turned red and frowned at the gentlemanly gesture.

"I can walk _fine_ by myself, thank you _very _much," she mumbled.

"I am sure that you _can_," he agreed. "However, as a young lady standing on her own two feet, _some _form of respect is due."

He winked down at her. Her brows plummeted further. About to withdraw his arm, she thrust her own into his and marched forward, dragging him in tow. Stumbling after her, he threw the remaining young women a somewhat helpless look.

"We shall return tonight," Ella informed them in a loud and confident voice as she marched away.

"_Apparently_," the son of Ajihad chuckled.

Erika and Lia watched the young girl lead the young man outside the building with amused expressions. Leaning into the warrior, the strange girl stuck her tongue in her cheek.

"You know…that child gets more and _more_ like you _every _day," she pointed out.

Lia smirked. "I know."

"You're _proud_, aren't you?" Erika snorted.

"I couldn't be prouder," Lia chuckled.

Stepping away from her rival, she pulled out both her swords and tossed one through the air. Erika moved in a blur and caught the sword somewhat clumsily.

"You are _lucky _you have _speed _going for you," Lia muttered with a derisive look. " Because _that _catch was…well…like a _girl_."

Erika feigned a laughing fit.

"_Hilarious _warrior!" she exclaimed.

Then, without warning, threw the sword. Lia barely had to side step to the right. She then stared amusedly at where the sword had pinged harmlessly against the wall, and then cluttered to the floor.

"Let me _guess_," Erika sulked. "I _throw _like a girl _too_?"

"However did you guess," Lia grinned.

Muttering, Erika stormed across the room, picked up her sword and then stood by the warrior's side.

"Enough games?" she asked tersely.

"For now," Lia replied. "In the meantime, do as _I_ do."

Stepping forward, Lia thrust her sword at an invisible foe. Erika copied the motion flawlessly and the lesson began.

******************************************************

Upon stepping out into the open, Ella's arm dropped from the young man's and she hesitated, looking left and then right.

"Wondering which way to go?" he asked innocently.

"Well which way _do_ we go?" she shot back irritably.

"Some place _very_ familiar," he promised and then started walking.

She followed.

******************************************************

Hepzibah was standing in the doorway, mouth agape, both hands wrapped around a cup of herbal tea. _Calm_. She _needed_ to be _calm_. The events of today could be tied to her in _no_ way whatsoever. _Whatever_ happened, she had to seem _innocent_. And here, approaching the store for the _second _time, in the _same_ day, was the _one _person who could _change_ all that.

"Greetings" the son of Ajihad said, pushing Ella through the door before him.

"_What_ is the _meaning _of this?" Hepzibah snarled.

"Is that _any_ way to greet a _customer_?" he asked, arching a challenging brow.

At the word "_customer_", all anger slipped from the witch's face. If he was here to _purchase_ items, well _that_ was a different story altogether. Nodding briskly, she ushered them inside. Once the door was closed, she locked it behind them.

"So… how may I help you on this fine, _fine_ day?" she asked warily.

"We require some herbs," the young man replied.

"Very well, take what you need, pay me some coin and we shall call the transaction complete."

He presented her with a shrewd smile. "And _then_…we will require use of your cauldron, _witch_."

Sighing heavily, she ran her fingers through her hair. So it was going to be one of _those_ days. There was _no _getting out of this – not whilst she was caught in her bind. Letting loose a flow of curse words, she turned the sign in the window from "open" to "closed."

"Well let's get this over with," she groaned. "What is it that you need?"

The son of Ajihad told her. Her eyes widened in recognition and then, she smiled. _Clever_ boy.

******************************************************

Making his way along the walls of the throne room, Murtagh tried to ignore the changes that were happening inside him. Sleep had come to him, but too late. He had had a few hours – not enough, but there was no more time. His stomach could accept no food, leaving him drained and nauseous and worst of all, everything itched. It felt as though snakes writhed within him and an army of ants crawled across every inch of his skin.

At one point in the night, he had awoken, scratching himself vigorously to relieve some of his discomfort, only to rub away a length of skin. And this time, with his protection lifted, there was blood and pain. To injure himself _before _their nights work was out of the question, therefore he had closed his eyes, bit down on his tongue and rested in what little way that he could.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do, but wait for Lia to make contact and formulate a plan. His part was an easy one – he simply awaited the others. And now, he was doing the only thing that he could think of. Paying a visit to the only other being that he could converse with during this time- the dragon of the King.

******************************************************

Shruikan gazed through the gap in the curtain at the back of the throne. He could see the one arm dangling from the side, the fingers drumming against the wood. And not a word was exchanged; not a glance was passed his way. Nothing. He felt the boy's presence and his lips curled back, as he issued a warning growl. The sound was pitiful – only a half-hearted threat. If the boy had come to irritate him once more, it was a distraction that he welcomed.

Moving away from the hole, the dragon settled into a more comfortable position, lying on his belly and fixed his onyx eyes on the fluttering piece of cloth. The boy did not even feel the need to announce himself. So confident was he, that he simply entered the den of Shruikan, crossed his legs and offered the dragon a casual wave. Shruikan' s tail flickered from side to side – the only sign of his annoyance. The boy smiled, closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall.

"_Murtagh_?" the King asked.

Murtagh and Shruikan both glanced at the throne and then at one another. Neither said a word. The King chuckled.

"Resting in the dragon's den? How delightfully _rebellious _of you! I see your protection has given you _gall_. How are you feeling? Can you feel it yet? Do not worry child, for your suffering shall end soon. In the meantime, why do you not enjoy what little time you have left?"

"Do not worry yourself your highness, I fully intend to," Murtagh sneered.

The King laughed and Shruikan studied the boy's face and then felt something different. The boy lacked something- something was missing from the time that he had felt him before. He had had some kind of aura, some form of spell – this so-called "protection". It was no longer there…but how? If it pleased the dragon, he could have shot flames at the young man, toasting him alive and earned _some _attention from his Rider. But there was something else that was different…the boy…he no longer _felt_ like the boy. Reaching out with his mind, he felt the boy's mind open and ready… as if he had expected nothing less.

_The King…he does not know…_ the dragon stated.

It was no question. Murtagh shrugged.

_And what of your progressive condition?_ Shruikan probed.

Murtagh's lips curved.

_Now whom is the one asking too many questions?_ he teased.

Shuffling forward, the dragon moved his snout inches before the boy's face. The boy's eyes remained closed and he showed no sign of fear, despite the warm breath that blasted against his skin. Shruikan inhaled.

_You are losing your scent. The King believes you have days left in you. You have no more than a day._

_Well that should make him pleased_ Murtagh chuckled.

_This scent…it does not become you. I remember Morzan the Forsworn, I smell him upon you, but it is not he. This is not the man that they remember. Whatever they have resurrected is an abomination._

_What difference does it make? My father was an abomination_

_No… this is different…The Morzan within you is of a different kind_

_Different? You mean worse?_

_If you can believe that possible_ - the dragon snorted – _The Morzan within you is an intensified version of the last. It is the same man, however, after decades of his soul festering inside you, reliving memories of old – his needs are great. This Morzan will come forth as an enemy to the King, not an ally. Too long has he waited to spill blood again, too long has it been since he has been with a woman. When the monster returns, he shall make his highness seem like a prince and he will not be taking orders from anyone, only seeking pleasure for himself_

_I don't know_ – Murtagh chuckled – _That sounds just like regular "dad" to me_

_You can joke about such things… _the dragon noted.

_My entire life has been a joke, why should it stop being funny now?_

_And when you lose your soul for all eternity? Will you be laughing then? You will not. You will not be able to. You will cease to exist. Does that not frighten you?_

_Will it really be such a difference from the life I have led? Always being perceived as an enemy, an outsider? Never being trusted? Hunted each and every day? Some may call it a release_

_What would you call it?_

_Does it matter?_

_I suppose not_

Neither spoke for several minutes. Murtagh opened his eyes to see the dragon's head rested by his feet. It was a picture of ease and an entertaining one at that.

_And what of you Shruikan?_

The dragon issued a low rumble, but that was all. Murtagh sighed and nudged the dragon's nose with his foot. The dragon snapped his teeth at it, but Murtagh only laughed.

_Fine, ignore me. But let me tell you this much. If I were not destined to lose my body and soul and if I were King, I would treat you a damn sight better than that arse hole_

_You… A king?!_ the dragon snorted.

_Mock me if you will_ – Murtagh laughed – _But let me present you with these options. What would you rather be? The dragon of a King? Or the dragon of someone who gives a damn?_

Shruikan remained in a seething silence. Murtagh noticed a small shaft of light that snuck in through a gap in the curtains. It bounced off those jet-black scales, causing the dragon to shine. In some strange way, he preferred this hide to Saphira's blue.

_You may find this hard to believe dragon… but I like you…I see in you a stubbornness that mirrors my own_ – he grinned – _I am no Rider, nor have ever wished to be. But if I was ever to take a dragon companion, I think it would have to be you_

Unable to think of a reply, the dragon only stared. Murtagh stared back almost sadly and then rose to his feet, wiping the dirt from his rear. Hesitating, he reached out a hand and held it there, palm outstretched.

_Well… this is goodbye… It has been interesting knowing you Shruikan, dragon of the King_

_It has been interesting knowing you, Murtagh, son of Morzan_

Unsure how to respond to the gesture, the dragon simply touched the hand with his snout. Murtagh patted it and then turned his back on the beast.

_Farewell Shruikan_

_Farewell Murtagh_

With those final words, Murtagh left.

******************************************************

The Twins stood before the three burning cauldrons and gazed up at the mirror with bright smiles. There, reflected back at them, was Morzan the Forsworn. The image was distorted, but only by the slightest blur. However, it was there. _Soon_…

"Did it return?" one asked the other.

The other shook his head, still distracted by the image that stared down at them. "No. I fear it has disobeyed our orders once more."

"And Erika?"

"She would not have survived such an encounter. Retrieving our pet can wait. This city is full of lost souls, having several more extracted shall make no difference. Allow it to indulge itself, before we issue the punishment.

"Very well. And the resurrection?"

"There is nothing left for us to do. Now it is up to _him_," he gestured to the mirror.

His brother beamed.

******************************************************

Lia and Erika moved side by side, dancing the dance of death. When they stopped, Erika was panting. Unable to rely on her speed for the moment, the physical exertion was taking its toll. Lia walked to the corner of the room, found a pitcher of water and poured the girl a glass. The strange girl drank it in huge gulps, water seeping from the corner of her mouth and dribbling down her chin.

"To learn the steps, they must be learned slowly," Lia said. "But you have mastered the art of fighting thin air. Now, you will master the art of one to one combat. I will not be fighting you in the sequence that you have just learned. You will need to pay great attention to my actions and try and anticipate my next move. Real combat follows no rules, no set line of thrusts and parries. It is about anticipation and instinct."

"And let me guess…this _too_ has to be learned slowly," Erika whined breathlessly, pouring herself another glass of water.

"Yes… but do not worry. Once you have mastered that, the fun begins."

"You mean you will allow me to _use _my speed?" the girl near begged.

Lia grinned. "Even better… _I_ shall try to _match_ it."

Erika's eyes gleamed. "Now _that_, I should very much like to see."

******************************************************

Standing in the background, Hepzibah watched the son of Ajihad instruct Ella in the use of the herbs, chopping them finely and adding the exact amounts necessary. She was impressed. Of course, being a member of The Shield had to make him a proficient spell caster. However, the finer arts of potion making were normally lost on people new to the skill of magic. But he was a natural… and Ella was absorbed by his every word.

"Now add them," he instructed.

She did so, and a sweet fragrance filled the air. The witch inhaled it deeply and smiled. The simplest of sleeping draughts – so simple that is was undetectable and untraceable. Delicious and appealing, it would prove to make a beverage difficult to refuse.

"Now…I will tell you the words and _you_ will cast the spell."

"Alright," Ella agreed, confidence leaving her voice.

He told her the words. She uttered them. Nothing happened. The words were not difficult. On the contrary, they were few and easily pronounceable. Pursing her lips, she spoke them again to no avail. Exhaling sharply, she averted her eyes and her mouth tightened. The son of Ajihad laughed.

"Giving up so _soon_?" he asked mockingly.

"_No_," she muttered.

She tried again, failed again and this time, she glanced at Hepzibah's figure in the shadows. Ella tried to discern whether the woman was laughing at her. She was not. The woman only watched her intently.

Ella's shoulders sagged. "Go on… _tell_ me what I'm saying _wrong_."

"It is not what you _say_, it is what you are _doing_. You are letting your doubt seep into your words."

"This _is_ my first time, you know."

"And we have _all _been there – even the _witch_. And the _first _thing you need to learn about simple spell casting such as this, is that _anyone_ can do it."

"_Anyone_?"

"Anyone," he smiled. "It is not a question of talent, only _belief_ and _will_. Even carriers of non-magical blood can cast spells. If you _believe_, then you _can_. _Say_ the words, but _believe_ in them too."

"It's difficult to believe in something hen I don't even _know_ what I am _saying_!" the girl complained.

"She makes a good point," Hepzibah muttered from the corner.

The son of Ajihad nodded. "My apologies. However, the translation of the words is simple enough. _Sleep_. Cast the spell, believe it to work and the water _should_ turn red."

"And all _I_ have to do is _believe_?" Ella asked.

"_Exactly_," he assured her.

Doubt etched across her face, but she rolled up the sleeves of her robe and prepared to try again. Tilting his head to the side, he smiled slyly.

"Maybe some _incentive_ would go a long way. If you can master _this_ simple spell, I shall teach you another…_This_ one, being a little more concerned with…_battle_."

Those were the words that Ella longed to hear. Focusing all her concentration on the words that were to be said, she spoke the words with a new sense of purpose. The water turned red.

"Well what do you know…" Hepzibah mused.

Ajihad gazed into the cauldron and nodded his approval. Ella shuffled closer and sniffed the water.

"Is it ready?" she asked.

"It is ready," he confirmed. "And so t seems…are you."

Smiling hugely, she awaited his instruction. Seeing her eagerness, he cast a sidelong glance to the witch.

"Would you care to assist me?" he offered.

Hepzibah pretended to think about it. "Well I don't have anything better to do."

He hid his smile as the woman ambled forward and Ella felt herself tingle with excitement. She was to be taught magic by a member of the King's finest and a renowned witch. _Finally_, she would have her chance to shine.

******************************************************

Another hour had passed, when Lia was satisfied that there was no more to be taught. Erika had indeed learned with inhuman speed, a few minor errors and now, she was ready to fight on her own. But there was one last thing that Lia wished to try and somehow, she felt that this strange girl held the key.

"It is time," she announced.

"_Finally_!" Erika rejoiced.

"But I have one request…"

"What?"

"Can you… explain something to me?"

"What?" Erika asked, her interest piqued.

"Your _speed_…I understand that it is a _part_ of you, but how _do _you control it?"

Scrunching her eyes, Erika pondered the question. Then, she disappeared and reappeared in the time it took for Lia to take a breath.

"After years, it has simply became a natural reaction. I barely pay my movements any heed. But in the beginning, it was concentration. _That_ was what gave me control."

"But your concentration was directed in _slowing_ your speed," Lia qualified.

"Yes, _that _much is true. In fact, even _now_, I find normal movements all the more tiring. Every part of me screams to move fast. It is as if I am fighting against a current, every time I struggle to walk at a human pace…Why do you ask?"

"I wish to be able to control my _own _speed," Lia admitted sheepishly. "I have these skills and no idea how to control them. Sometimes it seems as if they are brought on by strong emotions, but it is not enough. Not now. Not tonight. I _need _to learn."

Erika gazed down at the warrior, brow creased in thought.

"You realise that what you ask to learn in a few hours is _impossible_. For _me_ to learn what you have taught me is another matter entirely. But for _you_? You _are _only _human_…"

Lia met the girl's eyes and felt the heat rise to her face. "I understand that…And I can tell you now that in an afternoon's work… you are better than me."

The strange girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Come again? I didn't quite catch that…"

Taking a breath, Lia's expression hardened. "I am not so pig headed that I cannot recognise talent when I see it. If I fight you now, you will _best_ me. Your speed and your new knowledge make you superior. As of _this_ moment, you _are_ the better warrior. All I ask from you is to offer me something- _anything _that can help me gain _some_ control of my powers. I am not accustomed to begging Erika, but if that is what it takes, then I _will_."

Taken aback, Erika stared at the sword in her hand and frowned.

"You have changed Lia…" she noted cautiously. "Whether something has happened or there is something that you keep from me, I do not know nor care. But to address me in this way…it is _desperate_."

Swallowing her pride, Lia kept her mouth shut. The strange girl could not know what her words cost her. The fact that Murtagh was unable to witness the moment was her only feeling of comfort. Erika raised her sword and chewed on the inside of her cheek.

"When you wake up tomorrow and all of this is over, you are going to remember this moment and feel completely and utterly _disgusted_ with yourself!" the strange girl mused with a grin.

"I feel disgusted with myself _now_," Lia promised her with a brief, bitter smile.

"Alright warrior, don't ask me why, but I will make this easier for you. If I teach you something, maybe your humiliation will be less?"

"It _would _be nice to have _something_ to show for it," Lia admitted, drawing her own sword.

"Are you ready for lesson number one?"

"No," Lia answered honestly. "But do let us begin."

"It's quite simple really."

"What do I have to do?"

Erika's smile widened. "Move."

And then, she attacked.

******************************************************

Tired of travelling within the walls, Murtagh decided to take to the halls and the first thing that struck him was the silence. There was no sound of any life whatsoever. No footsteps, no far off scuffling of feet, so clashing sounds from the kitchens. Not a thing. Passing each an every chamber, Murtagh stopped and looked inside. With the doors that were locked, he pressed his ear against the wood and listened. Nothing. No one. The place was deserted. The kitchens empty. Areas were still closed off, but it was evident that the only people within the castle were himself, the King and The Twins. For a moment, he smiled. The lack of witnesses would make their need for stealth unnecessary. And then he remembered _why _they were gone. Resisting the urge to claw at his own chest, Murtagh fought the bile that was rising to his throat and headed for the kitchens. It did not matter that he could barely eat, he had to. He needed the energy to remain himself and make it through the night. Not for the first time, he wished that he could find some of Lia's purple root.

******************************************************

The afternoon passed and soon, Lia, Erika, Ella and the son of Ajihad were gathered in the room at the Tavern, with Murtagh present through Lia. They had each done all that was possible and now, it was time to plan. The young, dark skinned man was the first to offer an idea

"We have created a simple draught, but the properties not only cause drowsiness, but affect a magic bearer's ability to cast. I cannot promise that the effect will be a strong one, but any advantage must be taken. This, I feel would benefit your assault on the Twins. As for the King…there is a way to limit his magic. Do not misunderstand me, the man will remain lethal by all means- but there is a way to leach his powers…"

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a handful of crushed herbs.

"This may not look like much, but if placed in a circle around the area where you wish to face the King, it will help drain him. By all accounts, it should be a continuous drain. It will however begin slowly and until then…well…your only concern will be staying on your two legs. If you can remain alive until he is sufficiently weakened, then you stand a fool's chance – but no more."

He looked to Lia. Lia looked to Murtagh.

_Well, what do you think?_ she asked.

I don't think we shall receive a better offer from anyone else

_Aye_

"Thank you. Your help is appreciated. May we ask of you one last thing."

"You can ask, but I cannot promise that you shall have it," he informed her carefully.

"At nightfall, all we require is ten seconds. Four sets to be precise. And a signal at the beginning of each," Lia requested.

"I think that could be arranged," he agreed. "And the signal?"

"That depends on where you will be standing."

"Near the gates, overlooking the city."

"Then all you need do is flex your fingers."

The son of Ajihad frowned. "You will be unable to see."

"We will be fine," Lia smirked.

"And then what?" Ella asked.

_We split into two groups. I will meet you at the entrance. You, Erika and I head for Twins. Eragon and Ella can begin to plant the herbs around the throne room. By the time we finish with those bastards, they will be ready. I can provide them with a map of the area and we can meet at a pre-arranged place for the final show down_ Murtagh suggested.

_That sounds like a plan_ Lia agreed.

The plan was relayed to the others and then, one look out of the window told them that it was time. The son of Ajihad gave them each a curious look.

"It has been…_different_," he concluded with a wry smile.

"You _could_ say that," Lia agreed extending him a hand.

He took it and shook it. "I shall not forget you warrior."

"Nor I you magic bearer. I will say this much – I like you a damn sight better than I liked your father," she chuckled.

"_That_, I shall take as a _compliment_."

His eyes moved to Erika and he only dipped his head. She returned the motion and then, he looked down upon the young girl whom he had taught throughout the course of the day. She tried to look as impassive as the rest, but there was a twinge of sorrow in her eyes. Strange how they had only met and he had made such a difference. Grinning, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You show promise. May what you learned serve you well."

"Thank you," she mumbled.

With a final pat of her arm, he turned and left. This was the end of their association. After tonight, they would go their separate ways. In a way, he was glad. It had been a risk since the beginning, but at the same time – the only form of excitement he had experienced in a long time. Did he privately wish that he could join their fight? Maybe…if only for the sake of something different. And vengeance? Was vengeance worth taking such a chance? It was too late now. It was better to play it safe. For what chance did they stand anyway…

******************************************************

_Are you ready?_ Saphira asked for the thousandth time.

_Yes_ Eragon replied tiredly,

He was reminded of the Garrow nagging him before market day.

_Have you rested well?_

_Yes_

_Eaten enough?_

_For pity's sake Saphira, you were there! You saw how much I ate!_

_But did you rest enough? You cannot expect to –_

_Saphira! Please! I rested perfectly – you watched over me the whole time and there is no more preparation to be made_

_I know_ she sighed.

_Is it nearly time?_

_Yes…_

_I…_

_What?_

_I don't want to say goodbye _he said stubbornly.

_Then do not_ … she replied softly.

_How about… see you later? _

_That will suffice_

And –

He simply disappeared. Saphira's head shot forward probing the air, but there was nothing there. She reached out for him, feeling only the vaguest sense of his presence somewhere far away.

_Good luck_ she whispered, closing her giant lids.

******************************************************

The air in the underground chamber shimmered. Hepzibah and the others stepped back.

"Here he comes," she warned.

A bright flash lit up the chamber and there, the Rider stood in all his glory… _literally_. There was not a scrap of clothing upon him. Hepzibah's lips twitched. Erika's flickered downward, then up again and she offered Ella a congratulatory smirk. Ella turned scarlet and averted her eyes. Murtagh snorted and Lia, hiding her laughing fit with a series of chokes, fought to compose herself. Eragon, oblivious to his condition and only delighted to see his friends, strode forward, arms outstretched.

"Lia! Ella!" he shouted happily.

"_Uh_…" Ella stuttered.

"What?" he asked, noticing the minor horror in her face and feeling a stab of hurt. "Are you not pleased to _see_ me?"

"We are _very_ pleased to see you Rider," Lia assured him. "But we would be even _more_ pleased if-"

"If _what_?" he demanded, visibly upset.

"We could see a little _less_?" Erika finished.

Smiling beatifically up at him, she allowed her eyes to drop down and stay there. He followed her eyes, yet out a small yelp and jammed his hands over his manhood. Lia and Erika couldn't help but guffaw. Hepzibah threw Ella a spare cloak, who then gingerly passed it to her love. One hand shot out to take it and the second he was covered, he let out a long sigh.

"And _there _I was thinking this was a _change_ to my poor luck," he winced.

"On the contrary Rider, we love you _just _the way you are," Lia grinned.

"_Lucky_ girl," Erika said, nudging Ella in the ribs.

Refusing to take the bait, Ella only threw an arm around Eragon's shoulders and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"That was certainly a _new_ way to say hello," she commented cheerily.

At that he laughed and then, a pile of clothing was thrust before his face by an intimidating middle aged woman.

"These should fit," she said and then turned her attention to Lia. "Well, this is it. You gave me your word girl."

"That I did," Lia nodded and then gestured to the stairwell. "Everyone, bid the pleasant lady farewell. This is the end of our stay."

Hepzibah shuffled uncomfortably, as each of them mumbled their thanks. Then, one by one, they ascended the stairs. Only Lia stopped in the doorway for one final word.

"What's the matter girl?" the woman asked sourly. "Missing this old crone already?"

"_Hardly_."

"Then what is it? My deed has been done, you can end your bloody bind!"

At that, Lia offered the witch a sly smile. "You know… there never _was_ a bind."

The woman' s face paled. "…_What_?"

"The _never _was a _bind_," Lia repeated casually. "It's quite _fascinating_ what you can achieve with the power of _suggestion_, is it not?"

"_But… you?!… I_…"

"Oh I think you'll find that _any _symptoms you suffered, were brought about _entirely_ by _yourself_," Lia winked.

"_That's… No… You?_!…"

"_Goodbye _Hepzibah."

The door closed on the spluttering woman, ending their acquaintance.

******************************************************

Inside the tavern, they waited for darkness to fall. The wait was not long. Before they had left the apothecary, Erika performed the simplest spell to hide Eragon's identity and upon their arrival, he was informed of the plan. Everyone nodded, agreeing to his or her individual roles. However, no one asked the one question that mattered: how to deal with Galbatorix. And why? Because no one knew. That was the beauty of this suicide mission. It relied on sheer, dumb luck.

They used their hour to sit quietly. Eragon and Ella sat side by side, hand in hand. Erika and Lia leaned against the opposite wall, shoulders touching and glancing at the spot where Jacob had died. They had disposed of the body earlier, but in their minds eye they could still see it. Whatever their reasons, they were all fighting for something tonight. What little time they had left was best spent remembering exactly _what _it was that they were fighting for. When the sky turned black, they left the tavern and headed for the castle wall.

******************************************************

The son of Ajihad saw no sign of the coming trespassers, but he could wait no longer. Wherever they were, he would keep his part of the bargain. Feeling foolish, he flexed his fingers and his lips stopped moving. From around him, he could hear the chant of the others and then a strange whooshing noise. He nearly toppled backwards, as a grinning Lia appeared by his side and then dropped down the other side of the wall. So stunned was he that he almost forgot to resume his chant, but he did. Taking a few minutes to prepare himself, he gave the signal once more and braced himself. Next shot Erika, who offered him a flirtatious wink and then, disappeared. After that there was Ella, who looked rather terrified and finally the Rider. Then, it was over. Chanting as normal, the son of Ajihad resisted the urge to turn his head and scan the shadows for their progress. They had made it _this_ far…maybe they were not destined to die…_yet_.

******************************************************

Sticking to the shadows, the four reached the castle entrance. The door was open a crack and at their approach, the opening widened. Running quickly, they barrelled through the door. Murtagh sniggered, as Eragon suddenly stopped and the rest of them crashed into him, causing every last one of them to fall. Picking themselves off the floor, they spun around, eyes landing on him. Ella smiled. Eragon marched towards him and flung his arms around the surprised warrior in a brief embrace.

"It is good to see you my friend," he said with feeling.

"Yes… well," Murtagh muttered, awkwardly landing an affectionate blow on the Riders shoulder.

Erika gave him her best smile, but he did not look at her, only at Lia. The look that passed between them was unfathomable. Ella tiptoed to her friend's side and whispered loud enough for all to hear.

"This is the part where you give him that arse kicking I promised."

"_Later_," Lia said, forcing a smile.

Murtagh tore his eyes away from her and glanced at the others. This was not the time…

"Follow me," he ordered.

They did. Heading towards the dungeons, Murtagh lifted the tapestry and gestured Eragon and Ella inside. From his trousers, he pulled a roughly sketched map and pointed to a candle on the floor. Ella picked it up and Murtagh passed her a flint and tinder.

"The tunnels. They are all marked. Right now, you are here," he said, jabbing a finger at the relevant area. "Follow this line, until you reach here. The place is deserted. Place the herbs in a rough circle around this area and when you are done, meet us here."

Eragon and Ella nodded.

"And the three of you?" Eragon asked slowly "Will you-"

"Worry about your _own _task Rider," Murtagh rolled his eyes. "This will be no challenge for the three of us."

Trusting in them, Eragon gave them one last look and then headed into the dark. Ella followed obediently. Erika appeared between the two warriors and chuckled.

"Well, now that the children have left, shall we plan?" she enquired.

"The Twins are in the dungeon. The hall is protected by a spell that will rip a man apart and take him body and soul. The only way to fight them is to lure them out."

"And the draught?" Lia asked.

"_Hmmmm_," Erika thought. "It is unlikely that they will accept our generous offer of a tasty beverage _before_ we kill them…but I believe there is _another_ way."

"Being?" Murtagh pressed impatiently.

"_Steam_," she replied casually. "And as for luring them out, well I can think of no better bait than myself."

"You would play bait?" Lia raised a significant brow.

"It looks like we're _all_ doing things a little different on this day. Do not worry yourselves, my spell casting abilities shall remain in tact. Now - " she smirked and then waved to the tapestry. "_Hide_."

Murtagh hesitated. "What are you going to do?"

"Get their attention," she sneered.

Lia passed her the flask with the draught. Opening her arms wide, Erika closed her eyes and muttered a series of words. The flask began to glow and then, from its centre, steam began to escape and fill the hall. As Murtagh pulled Lia into the tunnel, their fingers touched for the first time. Pushing his partner up against the furthest wall, he urgently crushed his mouth against hers. The kiss was over before it began, but they were left breathless. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was nothing left for either of them to say. Marked palms joining, they could only listen and wait.

******************************************************

"I think we're here," Eragon frowned down at the map, turning it this way and that.

"Give it _here_," Ella said, prizing the map from his fingers before he could complain.

After a brief glance, she nodded to herself and then looked to their side. A crack of light broke through the tunnel on their right. A doorway.

"Through there," she said and pushed at the wooden panel.

It opened out into a hallway. Stepping out, they looked left and right.

"The place is empty. We should split up," she announced.

"Is that a good idea?" Eragon asked, his voice unsure.

"We've got a lot of ground to cover and we need to get this circle sorted out. You take that chamber and I'll take this one."

"And then what?"

"We get back in the tunnels, find another good place and do it all over again," she shrugged.

He stopped and smiled at her.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"You're different," he chuckled.

"I suppose I am," she admitted.

"I like it," he said with a twist of his lips.

Blushing, she jerked a finger at the chamber before him. "Enough of that Rider, you can romance me _after _we've killed the evil man."

"I fully intend to," he grinned and then turned, leaving her red-faced and intent on completing her own task.

******************************************************

A groaning noise filled the air, joined by a loud rattling. Daring to peek from their place of hiding, the two warriors stared down the halls. Pictures mounted upon the walls were shaking and lantern holders were tearing away from the walls. Erika stopped speaking and her hands beat together I one single loud clap. Every picture, every candlestick holder and every item that had been attached to the walls or the floor came free and hovered in the air. Upon whispering one single word, everything shot forward, past the strange girl and went crashing into the invisible barrier. Even from where they stood, they could hear the answering shrieks. Erika beamed.

"I _think_ that did the trick."

They could hear the thundering of footsteps slapping against stone and then the dungeon door flew open, revealing the Twins. Both were panting, both were covered in cuts and bruises.

"_You_!" one hissed. "How did you survive?!"

Erika sniffed. "Well that is hardly the way to welcome your prize student."

"_Enough _of this!" his brother growled. "_Finish _her!"

Staggering forward, they stopped in their tracks, sniffed the air and began to cough.

"That sounds quite bad," Erika said sympathetically. "Would you care for a glass of water?"

"She has - " one stammered.

"It is _nothing_!" the other argued and then closed his eyes.

A lightning bold flashed through the air and hit the space where Erika had been a second before. Now, she stood, leaning against the wall, with a bored smile.

"_Really_ master…is that the _best _you can do?" she taunted.

Both of their eyes began to glow a deep shade of purple, their lips began to move and their arms began to rise. Erika's eyes brightened at the concept of a challenge.

"_Yes_," she murmured. "Don't make it _too _easy for me."

The first bolt missed her shoulder and the second hit the spot where she had intended to appear. They had missed, but only _just_. The sleeve of her dress was smoking at the edges. Analysing the damage, she gave the Twins an admiring look.

"Interesting plan," she commented. "But how long before I render it useless?"

"Why don't we see," one snarled, whilst the other clicked his fingers.

From the ceiling, countless stalactites appeared and began to drop down upon her. Each and every one missed. Staring from the ceiling to the ground, she avoided being skewered and awaited the lightning bolts that never came. It was more difficult than expected. With each step, her path was blocked and she did not have time to cast a spell – only move. When the last stalactite fell, relief swept over her and then, anger. She was trapped. Enraged, she cast a spell. It did not work. The last spell had drained her of much. Cursing herself, she willed the warriors to make their appearance.

From behind the tapestry, the warriors waited for the Twins to pass the point of safety. When Erika was imprisoned, their time had come. Weakened by their own spell casting and the effect of the steam, the Twins were panting heavily. Their breathing stopped however, when the son of Morzan and a girl who they had thought had been killed, stepped out from the wall. Glancing behind her, still holding Murtagh's hand, a thoughtful looked passed across Lia's face.

"Let's see…there is me…you…them and some interesting cave type formations. One could say that this scene looks oddly familiar…but something is _missing_?" she mused and then smiled. "Wait a moment, I think I know how to complete this picture."

Murtagh knew her thoughts before they reached his and gripped her hand tightly. Minds focused on the same task; they barely needed to think. All their energy was focused on the Twins…and the walls. A loud ripping noise filled the air, as cracks split down the stone. The Twins were barely given time to register what was about to happen, when the walls either side of them burst into large fragments of rock and hurtled towards each other, meeting in the middle, where the two bald headed men stood in wait.

There were no screams. What little noise they released turned into gurgles, as the rock crumbled to the ground and their crushed bodies crumpled to the floor. Barely able to writhe for their broken bones, their broken lips moved in their defence. Murtagh and Lia knelt by their sides and issued a single, hard punch to their mouths. Withdrawing from the crippled bodies, rubbing their fists, they stared at their handiwork. Several teeth were missing from the front of each Twin and the jaws of both were broken. Murtagh raised his foot; ready to crush the skull of one, when Erika's cry reached their ears.

"Wait!" she yelled.

Lia looked to Murtagh. "This is not just _our _revenge."

"Fine…then let's make this worth our while," he replied coldly.

With the last of her power, the strange girl created the smallest gap for her to pass through and joined them, hovering over the immobilised Twins. All three stared down at them and in their eyes was a look that caused the bald headed men to feel something that they had never felt before…terror.

"Well Lia, I think you have had _your_ revenge," Murtagh said menacingly. "But I think I should _very _much like to have mine."

"And _mine_," Erika added with equal rancour.

"Ladies first?" Murtagh offered in an unusually gallant manner.

Erika smiled. "Oh no, I insist. But please, let me offer my services. Whilst you do whatever it is that you wish, would you allow me to keep them alive?"

"That would be most generous of you," Murtagh smiled and then reached into his pocket, as Erika began to mumble her spell.

When his hand became visible once more, he was holding a knife. Lia smiled. Murtagh bent down on one knee and toyed with the blade, his eyes blazing with hatred. The twins struggled, never taking their eyes off the blade, knowing what was to happen next. Lia crouched down beside her partner and mumbled a few words of her own. The Twins went completely still – apart from their eyes. Erika gave the warrior a look, but the warrior only shook her head. As usual, the unexplainable always reared its head at the most unlikely times. However this was not the time for questions, it was the time to take an eye for an eye. With the blade, Murtagh cut through the front of each of the Twin's robes and then, through their trousers. When their flesh was exposed, Murtagh lay the tip of the blade against the hollow of one's throat.

"This is a very interesting invention of mine, this…" – he laughed and then cocked his head to the side – "It is a knife. It _has _no magical properties. When I cut you, you _will_ bleed, you _will _scar and you _will_ feel pain and Erika?" – he added with a brief glance upward.

"Yes?" she replied.

"_Do_ make sure they stay alive," he insisted.

Then the knife came down and one Twin watched in horror, as his brother was cut open and gutted like a fish. Skin parted, organs began to spill out and blood poured from the wound, as if it would never end. And the process was done slowly… an inch at a time…beginning from the throat and ending at the crotch. By the time Murtagh had finished with the other, their eyes were rolling backwards into their sockets and the floor was slick with blood, but they were alive. Lia and Erika's faces remained impassive as stone and when Murtagh rose to his feet, he threw the knife to the ground and took his partner's hand. Her fingers closed around his, unfazed by what the very same hand had performed seconds before. The both of them looked to Erika, who moved her gaze from the ground, to them.

"I want to end them…but I understand that we shall stand here fighting all day for _that _privilege. So what say you to a joint effort?"

"I'm listening," Murtagh replied curtly.

"I suppose the question is…would you rather it be quick… or…"

"Messy?" Lia offered.

Her partner did not blink. "Need you even ask?"

"Very well, why don't we all do our own little thing and finish this right now. They are being kept alive only as long as I wish them," Erika pointed out.

"_Darling_?" Murtagh offered, turning to his partner.

"I always _did _like going first," Lia muttered.

Frowning hard in her concentration, she needed no words. The ground beneath the twins began to glow red, and their victims began to wail. A thick, vile stench filled the air- burning flesh. Lia smiled, satisfied and then looked upon Erika's interested face.

"Fascinating," the strange girl commented. "But I believe that I can best you in… _creativity_."

With a flick of her fingers, the steam that only existed as small particles in the air began to gather, forming a dense cloud above the two bald headed, burning men. Erika's lids closed for the briefest moment and when she opened them once more, there were no whites to her eyes, no sign of the usual green – only black.

"How about I put out that fire?" Erika whispered and then snapped her fingers once more.

From the cloud, raindrops began to fall, splashing against the exposed skin. Only it wasn't rain…it was acid. Another putrid stench was added to the air, as flesh was burned from above and below. Flesh was disappearing fast and yet, the Twins continued to live. Lia and Erika finally turned to Murtagh, who offered them each a hand.

"For this…I will require a little extra power," he said in a low voice.

Lia clasped his right hand, Erika clasped his left and without discussing the act, both girls clasped each other's remaining hand. Without pity, they looked down upon their enemy and savoured the last moment of their retribution.

"Go to hell," Murtagh said.

And then, the bodies exploded. Just as Murtagh had witnessed the bodies of many innocents being blasted apart, he now subjected them to the very same end. Only this time, there was no containment for the damage. Blood sprayed all three of them, splashing across the floor and walls. Bones, flesh and organs decorated their faces and clothes and yet, they did not flinch. Erika, who was usually impeccably clean and conscious of her beauty, merely shook a string of intestine off the end of her shoe, turned on her heel and walked away. Lia shook off any loose pieces of flesh, as if dusting off dirt, after being seated on the floor. Murtagh did no such thing. As Lia walked away, he found the skull of one still in tact. After smashing his foot down upon it, he followed his partner. Part one of their mission complete, they were ready for part two.

******************************************************

At the loud cracking noise, Eragon and Ella ran from their respective chambers and met in the hall, staring down the corridor with wide eyes.

"What was _that_?!" Eragon hissed.

Ella winced. "They were probably having a little _too _much fun."

"If _we_ could hear it, then…"

His sentence trailed off and Ella grabbed his hand, pulling him back into the tunnels.

"_Don't_ finish that sentence!" she warned him. "And work _faster_!"

******************************************************

The King's head slowly rose, as he felt the ground beneath him shudder. He was used to feeling and hearing unusual things as a result of the Twins and their experiments, however this was taking things one step too far. Did they care not for his reputation? Were they becoming both careless and reckless in their quest to please him? Possibly. Could he forgive such behaviour? Maybe…_If_ they accomplished the task that they had been set.

A low rumble from behind the curtain reminded him of his dragon's presence and then of the egg. Ah, the egg. Soon there would be a _real _hatching, another dragon and the Riders could rejoin the world once more; ruling over the people as they saw fit. Resuming his thoughts, the King forgot the loud noises, his dragon and everyone else, as he dreamed.

******************************************************

Erika took the lead. They were to meet in Murtagh's chamber. She had seen the map of the castle enough to remember the route. Murtagh and Lia followed a few steps behind. They walked with hands itching at their sides, ready to draw their weapons at a second's notice. Neither said a word, satisfied with the other's presence and their link, which was all that they –

"_What_?" Erika fumed.

The footsteps behind her had stopped. Murtagh was staring down at his partner; hand rested on her forearm…fingers digging in. Lia stared up at him, her expression blank. Annoyed, Erika took a step towards them.

"Go," Lia said, without turning her head.

Erika stopped, letting out an exasperated sigh. "But we have completed our task, we are to meet with the others. Whatever it is that the two of you wish to do, it can damn well _wait_!"

"Erika…" Lia said calmly.

The strange girl frowned. "_What_?"

"Do you trust me?"

She hesitated, but only for a second. "…Yes."

"Then go," Lia said, her voice cool and controlled. "Meet with the others and go forth as planned. We will catch up."

Frowning, Erika took a step back. "Then we will wait for you."

Murtagh's fingers seemed to dig deeper and Lia fought to keep her voice under control.

"There is no need, we will join you as soon as we can," she promised.

Frowning deeper, Erika surveyed the scene once more. It was wrong, but she couldn't place how or why. All that she knew was that the others awaited them and they still had a King to kill. Nodding once, she turned and disappeared.

******************************************************

One moment he was there and the next, he was gone. Like a candle being snuffed out, her partner had disappeared. His body walked by her side, but the hand that clamped down upon her arm did not belong to him, nor did the eyes that bore into hers or the predatory smile that twisted his lips.

_Murtagh…_ she whispered.

His smile widened, but it was not him. This was Morzan. It had happened, just like that. And now, here she stood, face to face with a true killer. Lying to Erika had came smoothly and she was glad. Morzan seemed not to notice the other girl, distracted completely by the object of Murtagh's desire. With Erika gone, Lia knew what it was that she had to do. She had vowed to stop this man and she would. Her partner's soul was lost for all eternity and yet, she could not allow herself to think of anything but this moment. She would grieve for the rest of her life, but now, she had to do this – for her love, for the world, for herself.

Yanking her arm free from his grip, she drew both her swords and began to circle him. He made no effort to draw his own, only pivoted on the spot, allowing his eyes to wander over her body with a perverse smile across his lips.

"So…we meet again," he said, his voice as enchanting as in her worst nightmares. "Lia, is it? Such a pretty name. And you can use a sword? How…interesting. He loves you, you know. Right now, he is screaming his pathetic little heart out, begging me to let you live. He must see something in you, although I cannot quite see it myself. But _hmmmm_…maybe I can give him something to remember you by?" he mused.

Lia's heart jumped into her throat and she fought it back down. Murtagh was there?! He was still _there_?! He was _alive_, even in the _barest_ sense?! But for how _long_?! Would he be gone _before _she could strike the killing blow? _Damn_ it, there was no _time_ for _talk_!

"He's disappearing a little more every second, so why don't we speed things up a little? Remove your clothes, bend over and allow me to take you from behind. Then, if you would be so kind as to lie helplessly as I squeeze my hands about your throat, it would make a beautiful passing gift for my son. Do you have any objections?" he asked, approaching her at a casual pace.

"Just a _few_," she replied icily and then, she attacked.

Her speed came to her, her swords were raised and she was prepared to drive the blades through his chest. There was only one problem…_he _was a former _Rider_. A blade stopped the both of hers before she had noticed it was there and their faces were inches apart.

"You like a little foreplay I see…Well _that_ can be arranged," he stated happily.

Before she could respond, his face shot forward and his tongue darted out, licking the side of her face. Staggering back, she wiped the spot furiously and snarled.

"I'll give you foreplay, you sick bastard!" she roared.

"And there I was thinking you would make me beg," he replied, readying his sword.

They stared at each other, breathing hard. Sweat beaded down Lia's forehead and a drop seeped into her eye. She blinked. Morzan became a blur. A sword stabbed towards her head. She ducked and appeared on the other side of the room. Their fight began.

******************************************************

Bursting through the chamber door, Erika found Eragon and Ella standing by the window. When their eyes locked onto her, their faces blanched. Glancing down at her current state, the strange girl had to agree that she looked thoroughly ghastly. Passing a hand across her cheek, she felt something soft and gooey. Picking the stray piece of flesh from her face, she flicked it off her fingers onto the ground. Ella tried very hard not to turn green. The Rider failed. Erika shrugged her shoulders.

"No one ever said revenge was pretty," she stated matter-of-factly. "Now, are the two or you prepared to…" – she smiled – "…get a little dirty yourselves?"

"Where are the others?" Ella asked instantly, ignoring the strange girl's attempt at humour.

Erika's face darkened. "They will join us when they are ready. In the meantime, they have asked us to continue.

"_Without_ them?" Eragon practically squeaked.

Ella's face fell, but then she nodded. "We cannot wait any longer."

"What are you complaining about Rider?" Erika said, striding forward, until Eragon was forced to inch back. "_You_ are a Rider, _I _am an expert spell caster and _that _girl," she hesitated and then shrugged. "Well she must be good for _something_?!"

Rolling her eyes, Ella snorted a laugh. "_Thanks _Erika"

Eragon looked from one girl to the other and then to the map in his hands and took a steadying breath. They were ready.

"Well then… let's not keep his highness waiting."

******************************************************

It had been a long time since Lia had felt the signs of physical exertion from a fight, but what she experienced now was insufferable. Fighting against the elf had been a challenge, a great challenge – but it had never meant to be a fight to the death. Even her afternoon's practice with Erika had been nothing but carefully controlled practice. But this? This was real. He was fast. He was skilled and worse… he was _toying_ with her.

She avoided the majority of his attacks, but she had the most unsettling feeling that he was allowing her. He was only seeking to wear her down, tire her out until he was able to pin her down and… _No_, she could not let him. He would take her in no way whatsoever. But _damn_ it…he already _was_! With every attack that she dodged, she would feel a prick, a small slice or a nip. And now, after several long minutes, with over one thousand moves, she was aware of the warmth that trailed down the length of her arms and legs. The warmth of her blood that trickled from countless wounds. Even her face stung and burned from cuts that had gently sliced her cheek, her nose, her chin and one on the side of her neck.

However, these small stinging, throbbing pains were nothing compared to her burning limbs. They begged for her to stop, to allow them a moment's reprieve. She could not stop, for the moment she was still; he was there, attacking. Had she even struck him the once? She could not remember. She had been too preoccupied with remaining alive long enough to plan a lethal attack. Missing another thrust to her side and receiving another nick to her face, she growled and forced herself to carry on. She couldn't stop.

_Damn it woman, don't you give up now!_ she growled in the back of her mind and then swung her sword in a deadly arc…and missed.

******************************************************

The three stood outside the throne room and stared at the door. A feeling of dread passed between them, but none showed any sign of their fear. Eragon took hold of Ella's hand and squeezed it hard; she squeezed it back and then reached for Erika's. Erika's fingers stiffened in her hold, but then, Ella felt the smallest grip – the smallest, but surest sign of reassurance.

"So… any plans?" Eragon whispered; trying to sound as carefree as his piers did in the face of death.

"Spread out, distract and attack?" Erika suggested with a shrug.

"That should do it," Ella shrugged back.

One by one, they released the other's hands, but the staring at the door did not cease.

"_Er_…" the Rider hesitated. "Just a quick question."

"Yes that robe _does_ bring out the colour of your eyes," Erika stated with mock solemnity.

"And no, your arse _doesn't_ look too big in it," Ella threw in for good measure with a shaky laugh.

Eragon smiled through trembling lips. Only then, did he realise that all three of them were shaking from head to toe.

"Actually, I was going to ask how we should go about making our entrance?"

Erika grinned. "Well I have always found that when one wishes to announce one's self, one usually knocks."

Exchanging nervous grins, the three of them walked right up to the door and stopped. Ella held out her fist and glanced from Erika to Eragon. Eragon closed one hand into a fist and piled it on top of hers. Erika felt their eyes on her, rolled her own to the ceiling and then added her own fist on top of the pile.

"Ready?" Ella asked.

"Never" all three of them chorused and then laughed.

Stepping apart, they beat their fists three times against the large, oak door and then pushed.

******************************************************

Lia tripped. It was one mistake, but it was all that it took. The next thing she felt was her back smashing against the wall, his knee pressed between her legs, one hand wrapped around her neck and the other pressing steel against the side of her throat. She tried to move, but his fingers only closed and the blade dug into her skin. How had this happened? What had she tripped on? Had her fatigue finally got the better of her? Her sagging limbs answered the question. She was spent. This was the end. Murtagh would soon be lost if he was not already, she was going to die and soon, so would everyone else. She had failed. Turning her face to the side, Morzan skimmed his nose from beneath her ear to the edge of her jaw.

"I can smell it," he murmured, inhaling deeply, causing her to cringe in disgust. "Your fear… it smells so sickly sweet and I imagine it tastes even sweeter." He chuckled and with his tongue, lapped up the bead of sweat mingled with blood that ran down her cheek.

Groaning, Lia forced her head to face his. His fingers tightened, but once he ascertained that she would not struggle, they loosened once more. Piercing him with all the hate that she had ever felt in her life, she searched his eyes, wondering if Murtagh could see her now. Half wishing that he could not…

Morzan smiled down at her lazily. "He has fallen quiet…No…wait…I think I hear the sound of tears…Weak boy…Pathetic boy…Watch what I do to this girl, so you can know that you never had a reason to exist other than to serve me."

As his fingers moved from her throat, across her collarbone and towards her chest, Lia shut her eyes and prayed that Murtagh would look away. When his hand reached lower, she inhaled sharply and gnashed her teeth together. All hope was lost…everything that they had ever accomplished was worth nothi-

A memory came to her out of no where. Not of Murtagh, not of anyone that mattered, but of Hepzibah. She was down in the chamber, they were all talking, and they were discussing a spell. Words flashed through her mind. Blood given willingly. But they had done that…

Wait…

…No

It was given willingly…but it was not what was needed…

Lia finally understood what they had done wrong…

Looking up into Morzan's eyes, her expression softened.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

Morzan's brow furrowed.

Jerking her head suddenly, Lia thrust her neck hard against the blade. There was pain, but only for a moment. She heard the sword clutter to the ground, felt hand and knee release her and then she hit the floor.

Morzan's eyes widened and then, he threw his head back and screamed. His body rose a foot into the air, as he flailed his arms and legs in agony. A dark shape rose from the ground, taking the shape of a giant hand. Seeing it, Morzan began to whimper and scream.

"_No! No! Do not take me back! I belong here! I demand it!_"

The hand darted upwards and grabbed the floating body, fingers closing into a fist. From within, the screams continued and then, the fist slammed back down into the ground, bringing the body with it. The screams disappeared. Murtagh's body twitched and then slowly, trembling, he rose. Looking around him, he wrapped his arms around his chest and felt inside himself.

"_He's…he's gone. Lia…he's_…"

Remembering what he had seen, he bellowed in agony and collapsed on his knees by her side. Her eyes were open, unblinking and unmistakably dead. Her throat was sliced open, almost severing her neck from her head. The pool of blood beneath her was thick and flowing. There was no rise or fall to her chest, but he could feel her – like an echo far, far away. So faint was it, that he was unsure it was real.

"_L…Lia_," he struggled to even say her name.

_Eragon…help Eragon…_ her voice whispered and then faded.

She was _gone_.

Bending down, he kissed her still warm, dead brow. Picking up his sword, he stood and stared down at her.

"_I will not fail you_," he promised her fallen form.

Giving her one, final, anguished look, he turned and ran.

******************************************************

They stood in a line, several metres apart. Ella stood her ground on the far left, Erika on the far right and Eragon in the centre. Each offered the King a derisive bow. Galbatorix rose from his throne, ignoring the women and fixing his eyes upon the Rider.

"Well, well, _well_… if it isn't the farm boy turned saviour," he smiled. "Galbatorix," Eragon glared.

"It _speaks_!" the King clapped and then, began to stroll forwards. "Now, may I guess the nature of this call? Have you perhaps come to pledge yourself to me? Offer me these fair maidens in exchange for your life or have you simply come to chat?"

Drawing Za' Roc, Eragon grabbed the hilt in both hands. "I have come to kill you."

The King stopped, snorted a laugh and glanced at the other two guests.

"And _these_ charming ladies?" he enquired politely.

"_They _are here to _help_," Eragon replied.

Both girls tensed, ready for anything. Galbatorix lifted his palms upward, in a gesture of nonchalance and then threw his arms forward. An energy bolt hit all three intruders in the chest, sending them crashing against the walls. The King examined his fingernails and waited patiently for the three of them to pick themselves up. They did, in a wobbly and ungraceful way.

"Do not waste my time child, I will kill you in due time, but now-"

Three spells hit him in the chest and threw him across the room. The King's body only stopping, when his head hit the corner of his throne. Eragon's palms were still smoking from the fireball he had sent, Erika's form was illuminated by the crackling of thunder, but both their eyes glued to Ella, who stood with her fists bunched by her side and her brow drenched in sweat.

"_What_?" she growled at the both of them. "Didn't think I was going to sit back and let _you_ two enjoy it all?!"

Eragon's face split into a wide, manic grin. Erika threw her head back and laughed. The lightning around her bouncing off the nearest walls.

"It looks like the innocent girl isn't so useless _after _all," she stated, impressed.

"Innocent, my _arse_!" Ella spat. "And as for useless? Well let's just say that all _that_ shit is about to change."

"Shall we play," Eragon smirked.

"_Let's_," Erika grinned back at him.

Galbatorix clambered to his feet, spread his arms wide and an unnatural wind began to swirl around him, extending further and further, until objects began to move. Things began to lift off the floor and spin through the air. Twelve chairs rose, a table and the throne itself began to rise. With a clap of his hands, every object flew towards the trespassers. Readying their spells, they waited for the opportune moment…

******************************************************

Murtagh flung open the doors and stepped onto the scene. The air was alight with magic, spells being fired every which way and movement so fast, that activity was barely decipherable. The only being who could be made out was Ella – the only one who apparently could _not_ move with inhuman speed. It seemed that somehow, this encounter had brought about Eragon's _own_ Rider talents. It was promising, but would it be enough? A bolt flew through the air and there was a loud gasp. Everything suddenly stopped and Murtagh could see. Erika stood several feet away from the King, Eragon stood further, but every head was looking across the room. Ella was on the ground against the wall, hands over her head and an inch above her, was a cavernous hole. A near miss…_too _near. Eragon's eyes shot from Ella to the King, indecision lingering there.

"That's right Rider," the King cooed. "Spare your friends an early grave and take them away. I will kill you soon enough, but I need this coming way. So why not take them now and offer them a chance to live? I give you this opportunity to walk away. Do it now and I spare them their lives."

"Don't listen to him Rider," Murtagh spat.

Ella jumped to her feet, her expression overjoyed and then, upon noticing the mission party member, her head tilted to the side in confusion.

"Murtagh…where is…"

He silenced her with a look. Her lips clamped together tightly and her lids closed. When they opened again, she went to stand by his side and glared at the King.

"Don't Eragon," she said bitterly. "This is it. It ends here. Remember?"

The King smiled. "Ah Murtagh, so good of you to join us. I wonder though, have you not told the Rider of your little… predicament?"

Murtagh's nostrils flared. Erika and Ella exchanged a look and Eragon's brows rose questioningly. The King rubbed his chin.

"I wonder…what would the both of you think if I told you that-"

"_Enough_!" Murtagh roared.

Charging, it mattered not if his blow missed. Nothing was more important than silencing the man. Agreeing with him entirely, the women joined him. Eragon, clueless to their sudden rage only supported the attack. Galbatorix smiled, waited for them to grow close enough and then muttered one word. The four collapsed to the ground, screaming. Galbatorix closed his eyes and savoured the sound. Strolling past their writhing bodies, he tutted his disapproval.

"_Really_ children, this will not do at _all_. You have these silly little powers and simply _no_ idea how to use them. Now I offered you a chance and you refused to take it. Did you honestly expect me to extend the same invitation twice?" he asked.

His only answer came in the form of long, drawn out wails.

"If you think that this is pain dear ones, I beg you to think again. This is nothing. I can do a lot worse that this and I will…if you continue to defy me so," the King continued.

Turning his back on them, Galbatorix walked to where his throne had once sat.

"Are you done talking?"

The King's eyes grew saucer wide and he spun to see Murtagh standing there, sword ready. The boy looked strong, steady and in perfect health.

"_Impossible_," he hissed.

"Apparently _not_," Murtagh muttered. "And I have a message for you."

Galbatorix's eye twitched. "_Really_?"

"See you in hell," the warrior snarled.

Hands spreading apart, a glowing force emanated from between them. His lips moved, words flowing off the tip of his tongue. Words that he did not understand, but they were there. A pulse of energy cut through the room and hit the King with full force. The King staggered backwards and then fell flat on his back, paralysed. Murtagh walked forward, his pace slow and pointed the tip of his sword to the King's heart.

"Recognise _that _one, _do_ you?" Murtagh spat. "One of daddy's _finest_. He liked to use _this_ one before he tortured, raped and killed his victims."

"_But…how_?" the King gasped.

Crouching down, Murtagh put his lips to the King's ear.

"You missed it your highness. Your dearest friend has _been_ and _gone_ and all that is left is _me_…me and apparently a few _choice_ powers. Under any other circumstances, I'd feel violated by such a gift – but if it means killing _you_, I'm calling it a _blessing_. But if you think I'm going to be the one to kill you, think again. I'm going to let you die in the most pitiful way possible…at the hands of a _farm boy_."

Facing his comrades, Murtagh only thought it and their torment ended.

"Rider," he ordered. "Get up. You've got a King to ki-"

Eyebrows pulling together, he slowly looked down. Protruding from his chest was the length of a blade. Frowning, he stared at his friends. Their mouths opened, they seemed to be shouting something, but it sounded strange – as if he were underwater. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the King's cruel smile.

"Goodnight Murtagh," Galbatorix said, and then dragged the blade upwards.

Murtagh's eyes bugged, he choked and blood bubbled from his lips. Falling to the ground, he lay there, trying to move his arm, but unable to. Standing over him, Galbatorix stepped down on the blade, slicing it further down. More blood, more gurgling, more sounds that couldn't be made out. His vision began to fade. The pain now so intense that he felt numb. And then, he felt it…like bathing in the sunlight. A warmth so inviting, so… _her_…

Smiling, he died before he could form another thought.

"_NO_!" Ella screamed.

"_YOU EVIL BASTARD_!" Eragon yelled, grabbing his sword with tears in his eyes and charging.

No one cared anymore, they ran at the King and the King waited. He was tired of their games. His lips moved, his eyes closed and then there was a roar. The curtain tore away, revealing a wide, gaping maw. Eragon grabbed Ella and Erika's arms, holding them back. The King gave his dragon an irritated glance.

"_Silence_ Shruikan!" he hissed.

The dragon spared one moment to look down upon his Rider and then his head snapped forward. When it shot back, the King was made of legs and torso…but nothing more. The body swayed on the spot and then fell. Shruikan's teeth gnashed together noisily, smoke jetting from his nostrils, as he stormed out into the open. Ella huddled to Eragon's side, terrified. Erika staggered backwards, caught by Eragon's free hand. Frozen with fear, they watched as the mighty black dragon growled fiercely and then spat out the King's head – or what little was left of it. The dragon's growls receded, but he paid them no heed. Softly, sadly, the beast padded across the floor and slumped to the ground, nudging Murtagh's dead body with his snout. Then, the dragon's tail curled around the boy protectively and the beast threw back his head and roared.

Ella broke free of Eragon's hold and ran to where Murtagh's body lay. Shruikan remained still, as the child scrambled over his tail and collapsed sobbing against the body on the ground. Soon, the two others joined her – the boy shouting to the skies and the remaining girl simply standing and staring. Together, they grieved.

******************************************************

Lia's body was discovered an hour later and placed beside Murtagh's. Erika was the one that carried her to the throne room – for the others, it was too much to bear. Red eyed and weary, Eragon and Ella stood hand in hand, gazing down upon the faces of the deceased. Shruikan had not moved. Only the strange girl seemed composed enough to speak.

"Someone…anyone…go to the witch and fetch some herbs. Their bodies will need to be cleaned and prepared. I know not to what faith they belonged, if to any. But if we are to give them the respectable burial that they deserve, they will need to be dealt with. I will perform what is necessary…I have done it before," she said, her voice low.

Ella released Eragon's hand and stepped back. "I will go."

Eragon could not speak... he could barely nod. The young girl spun and fled from the room. Erika turned to him with gentle eyes.

"Come Rider, your mourning can wait. You carry a map, do you not? Find the kitchens. Fetch me some water and some clean towels, then return to me."

"Al-alright," he stammered.

Trudging away, Erika dropped to one knee and surveyed the deceased through angry eyes.

"Was it worth it?" she muttered in disgust and then waited.

It was as though she expected them to leap up with those two matching, inane grins and spout their usual heroic rubbish… for this was _them. _For all the stupid things that they did, they could never…_die_. But here they were and they were dead. Two sets of empty eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling. Furiously, the strange girl drew back her hand and struck the dead girl's face. The head lolled to the side, but there was no change. Erika's breathing quickened and her shoulders shook.

"What's the matter _bitch_? Going to let your pathetic, attractive friend get the better of you? I'll do it again!" she threatened and then did.

Still the dead girl did not blink or even raise a fist in protest. Erika shuffled to the girl's other side and glared down upon the man that had been the cause of all this trouble.

"And _you_!" she hissed. "You were _never _worth it!"

Slamming a fist into his face, she gritted her teeth against the pain. This time, the dragon roared in protest. She shot the creature a deadly look and then folded her arms.

"_Good riddance to the both of you_!" she roared, a single tear cutting through the blood caked on her face. "_They will be better off without you! You'll see!_"

The door behind her opened again.

"_Erika_…" Eragon's quiet voice reached her ears.

Embarrassed and unwilling to be caught in such a state of emotion, the strange girl leapt to her feet and stormed past him, stopping with her back to him.

"_You _clean them! They were _your_ friends. _I_-", she struggled, took a heaving breath and then slammed the door behind her.

******************************************************

Lia was sat on the floor, hugging her knees and… waiting. She was in their place…at least she thought that she was…There really was no way to be sure. It turned out that keeping her side of the promise had been harder than she thought. Dying hadn't been quite as easy as expected. Overwhelmed by this urge to simply sleep, it was near impossibly to form a thought, let alone hold one. She had tried her hardest to think of him and only him, but it had been her time of death and other images had joined his. Friends. Family. Her life passing before her eyes. So many visions in so little time…

No… she _was_ here. Sitting here, it may not have _looked_ familiar, but it felt it. It was dark. Dark, except for a speck of light that seemed to grow in the distance. Watching it become bigger, Lia was content to wait. After all, she was going to be here for a very long ti –

_What is that?_ Murtagh asked casually from behind her shoulder.

A thousand questions and words raced through her mind, and yet when her lips parted, only three words escaped.

_I don't know_ she finally replied.

_Care to find out?_ he invited, a smile evident in his voice.

Standing, she could not see him, but he was there. His hand finding hers, they headed towards the ever-expanding tunnel of light.

_So…do you think it leads up or down?_ he wondered aloud, his tone carefree.

_Flip a coin_ Lia chuckled.

The tunnel was close now, a bright white light that bathed them until they appeared to shimmer like gold. Stopping at the edge of the darkness, they glanced at one another, expressions amused.

_I don't know…the devil may simply have an unreasonably bad reputation_ Murtagh suggested.

_And if not?_

_Pissing him off will just be all the more interesting_ he grinned.

_And what if we go up instead of down?_ – Lia added thoughtfully – _I've heard it's meant to be quite pleasant…_

Blowing the air from his cheeks, Murtagh gave a one shouldered shrug.

_Do you think the big bearded man is ready for the likes of us?_

_There is only one way to find out…_

Smirking, they joined palms one last time and walked into the light, embarking on the only adventure that was left. Only when their souls were engulfed, did the light disappear, taking them with it.

******************************************************

The map was on the floor, opened and ready…and Hepzibah hadn't put it there. When she first descended the steps several hours earlier, there it was. Was it time already? No… it couldn't be. The feeding…it had been dealt with six months before. Locking it away, she had left. And now, there it lay… _again_…the edges glowing…the surface rippling…

"_No_," she had groaned, rolling it up, locking it back inside the chest and then sitting upon it. "Not _yet_…"

The chest rattled beneath her and she closed her eyes, throwing her weight against it. Approaching footsteps met her ears and she froze. All movement beneath her stopped. She sighed, temporarily relieved. The door opened and there, stood Ella. One look at the girl's face told her all that she needed to know.

"You failed," the witch nodded knowingly. "It is no concern of mine, you are no longer welcome here – _none_ of you."

Ella lifted her chin and eyed the woman coldly. "We did _not_ fail. The King is no more."

Hepzibah's mouth hung open and then, she shook her head. This changed things…this changed things _dramatically_.

"Alright…well why _are_ you here?" she demanded. "Do you wish for my congratulations? Well _congratulations_! Now be _off _with you!"

Reaching into her pocket, Ella pulled out a bag of coin and tossed it to the woman's feet.

"I require some herbs and ointments to treat the dead," the young girl said, her tone as cutting as steel.

"Very well…as you are a _customer_… you had better follow me," the older woman grumbled.

Several minutes passed, gathering the necessary items and piling them inside a basket. Hepzibah held the door open for the girl and watched as she walked away.

"Who are the fallen?" the witch asked, morbidly curious.

Ella stopped in her tracks.

"_Lia…and Murtagh_…"

She continued her walk towards the castle, leaving the older woman staring after her.

******************************************************

Erika's feet carried her to Murtagh's chamber, where she collapsed against the furthest wall, sliding to the ground. Her clothes, they felt too tight. Each and every breath that she took felt sharp, icy and difficult. What was this that she was feeling? Like a part of her that she never knew even existed had been torn away, leaving her open and vulnerable…and _lost_. She had always felt lost, apart from the rest…why should it matter now? Was it not something that she had always embraced, putting herself above the rest, and looking down upon every other being in existence.

It _had _been…

But then _they_ had come along. Them and their knack for breaking the rules, finding trouble and escaping death by a hair's breadth. She had barely spoken to _him_. Attractive as she may have found him, with him, there was no connection. But with _her_…

She had hated her and a part of her hated her still. Wanting nothing more than to put the abnormal female in her place, she had invested time and effort into her goal. That _itself_ should have been a sign… something she should have recognised a long time ago. Erika did not waste her time on others, but the warrior had claimed her attention. And why? Because the other girl had _noticed_ her… _really_ noticed her. The warrior hadn't been afraid, nor intimidated, but treated her as an equal. Even when their intentions and feelings were made clear, the warrior still treated her with some degree of respect and they had talked. Then and only then, did the strange girl come to know that the girl she had always considered to be her enemy, had been her only friend…

Thumping her head back against the wall, Erika allowed her thoughts and fears to consume her. Where would she go from here? What would she do…and where would she ever belong?

******************************************************

Even from where she sat, legs swinging from the edge of the counter, Hepzibah could feel it. The map was out of it's place…and this time…it would _not_ take no for an answer. Glancing over her shoulder, the witch observed Albert's snoozing form. How many years had she kept him this way? If he were released from this state, would he ever recover? The place was quiet, now that it was just the two of them once more. How odd… she never thought that she would grow accustomed to the sound of the three bickering young girls residing below. Talking was a lot more satisfying when someone could talk back. But here she was, alone…and all she had left was Albert. Drumming her fingers against the tabletop, she smiled and for the first time in years, spoke to the man by her side.

"I didn't have a choice you know…your wife, she was dying. Of course she never did tell you how she felt. You always were a mean old bastard…She just passed it off as a slight fever…and then whatever other excuse came to mind. I did her a service…and as for you? I saved you the pain of her loss. You are alive…Alright, so it's not much of an existence, but you are healthy and still inside there…_somewhere_," she said somewhat doubtfully and then continued. "But I never _did_ tell the young girl about the others..."

Shuffling off the table, she leaned over the counter, arms folded and rested her head on top of them. Albert's face existed kissing distance from hers, but she only watched him and lowered her voice to a whisper.

"She wanted to know about my map and I told her of you and your misses…but I left out the rest. What little I divulged was enough…The girl didn't need to know that the map needed to be fed again… and again… and _again_…"

Eyes drifting out of focus, Hepzibah felt the tingling sensation run through her arms and legs. Suppressing a shudder, she closed her eyes.

"Of course, it wants something a little different every time. For one arm, I took your wife. For the other, I took a dying whore. As for my legs? Both were courtesy of diseased wenches on the street. They were all going to die and none have been missed. They disappeared without a trace. I didn't do anything that wouldn't have happened to them anyway. Their deaths were quick, their suffering minimal. I was the one who suffered, I was the one who had to graft their limbs onto mine when I was half bleeding to death. _Me_! There was never a damn thing on that map that suggested that there would be more than _one_ payment…Nothing that suggested continuous sacrifice…Nothing that even _hinted_ at imminent death…"

Voice trailing away, the woman stared down at what was left of her…what was left to feed the monster, that it hadn't feasted on before. There were only two options left…her middle…or her head. She was a skilled practitioner of magic, better than any she knew and yet there was no way that she could survive such a process. She had taken every step she could, given all that she could give and now…there was nothing left. A cold seemed to rise from the floor, curling around her ankles and travelling upwards. Shivering, she knew that her time was up. And somehow, an awkward relief outweighed her fear.

"What use am I now _anyway_?" she asked the sleeping man with a weary smile. "The King is dead…peace will rule throughout the lands…and business will disappear. There is nothing left for me here. I suppose my dear sister was right…my greed _did_ get the better of me, would you not agree?"

Shifting in his sleep, the man began to snore. Hepzibah reached forward and lay a hand upon his head.

"_I release you from your slumber_," she whispered into his ear.

A soft glow radiated from her palm and the man's breathing slowed and then stopped. It appeared as though the years had proved too much for Albert after all. Taking a calming breath, Hepzibah resigned herself to her fate and did so with dignity. Giving the man who had posed as her husband one final apologetic glance, she descended the steps and opened the door.

Everything had been moved back against the walls, leaving a clear space in the centre where the map awaited her; only in it's true form. The waters had parted, revealing the head of the beast, which loomed several feet above her. It's skin red, coated in a thick layer of sticky blood that dripped back into the crimson water. Like a snake, it hissed down at her, only with no distinguishable eyes or nose…only the huge mouth, emphasised by rows upon rows of deadly sharp teeth. Standing before it, Hepzibah closed her eyes and bunched her fists against the inevitable agony.

"I am ready…" she announced.

"And _I_ am _impressed_…" a voice responded in a deep, booming note.

Opening her eyes, the beast was gone and in it's stead stood what could only be described as a demon. It had no true form; it's shape shifting and changing from one second to the next. A black mass that grew and grew, until it filled her line of vision. All that she could make out were the pair of glowing red eyes in its centre – a vision straight out of the pits of hell. Falling to her knees, she bowed her head and averted her eyes.

"Ah! A witch show shows respect…you impress me further Hepzibah. Indeed, I never expected you to last _this_ long. In the history of the map's existence, no man has lasted past their first offering…but none had been as creative as _you_. You have given me much witch. With each feast, you have bestowed upon me more knowledge and power than I have gained over the centuries and now, you offer me the final sacrifice…your _life_. You are the one I have been waiting for. I came here to this world in the form of this map to learn of your kind and gain knowledge and power and you are the first to give it to me. With you inside me, I can return to my realm fulfilled. But I am not an unreasonable demon and as a token of my gratitude, I can grant you one wish. If it is within my power, I will fulfil your desire."

As the first thought popped into the witch's head, the demon laughed heartily.

"Ah _Hepzibah_, I am afraid that _that_ request is out of the question."

_It was worth a try_, she thought and then focused harder on what she could possibly ask and could think of nothing. Lines in her brow deepening, she wished to think of something…anything. And then it came to her. She surprised herself with the thought and then chuckled to herself. _I must be getting soft in my old age…_

"Are you sure that is what you wish?" the demon asked.

"I have no idea _why_…but _yes_," she replied with a wry smile.

"So be it."

Hepzibah held her smile, until the moment when the monster's head broke through the black mass and swallowed her whole.

******************************************************

Eragon sat by Murtagh's side, whilst Ella sat beside Lia. Both cleaned the wounds in silence, immersed in their own agony. As Ella passed the now bloodied, wet cloth across Lia's throat once more, she blinked. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. Of course they were – she had cried and cried and now, they were sore, stinging and barely able to focus. Rubbing at them with the forearm of her free hand, she glanced back down, expecting to see what she should. But it was still happening…the wound…it was closing on its own accord. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Looking across to Eragon, she saw that he too was staring at Murtagh. His chest that had been opened wide, was knitting together, cuts fading into nothing and colour rising to his cheeks. Glancing at Lia once more, her friend looked whole. Clapping a hand to her mouth, Ella began to sake.

"_What is this_?!" she choked. "_Is this some trick?! Why are we seeing this?! Who would be so cruel as to-"_

The eyes of the deceased flew open and they bolted upright, hands clutching their chests as they swallowed mouthfuls of air. Eragon and Ella stumbled backwards, stunned into silence. Murtagh moved his hand to his chest. Lia gingerly traced her fingers across her throat and then the two of them stared at one another, their expressions torn between confusion and terror.

"Are we…" Murtagh began, but could not bring himself to finish.

"We _can't _be…" Lia said, shaking her head.

"You…you're _alive_," Eragon stammered through trembling lips. "The both of you…you came back?!"

"_You two_!" Ella howled in anger and then charged at them.

Her fists pounded into the both of them and then, she threw an arm around the neck of each and pulled them into a ferocious hug. Neither could respond. They only gazed at one another over the shoulders of the sobbing girl.

"We were dead," Murtagh qualified.

"Yes," Lia confirmed.

"And now we're not."

"No."

Shoving the weeping girl away from him, Murtagh jumped to his feet, grabbed Lia's hand and the both of them glared up at the ceiling.

"What the bloody hell do you want from us?!" he bellowed to thin air. "Do you want us alive?! Do you want us dead?! You've tried to take us time and time again and then when you _have _us, you send us _back_?! Can't you just make up your bloody mind?! We are sick and tired of this shit! Well?! _Well?_!" he challenged.

There was no reply, no sign…nothing.

"You had your chance…" Lia added defiantly. "And you blew it. Now, we're _back _and damn it, we're _staying_! We're not playing by your stupid rules _anymore_!"

"Who the hell are you talking to?!" Ella demanded, giving them a crazy look.

"The big bearded man," Murtagh growled obviously. "Or _whoever_ it is that plays with our fate."

"The King is dead," Eragon said, approaching them slowly, as if meeting them for the first time.

"You mean…" Murtagh blinked. "_You _really _killed_ him?"

"No," the Rider replies sheepishly. "_He_ did."

Eragon pointed behind them both and they turned to see Shruikan. Lia stared up at the dragon in awe, whilst Murtagh felt his lips creep into a smile. The dragon's head lowered until it was directly before his.

_Not bad Shruikan, former dragon of the King_ he praised the beast.

_Not bad at all…but he tasted bloody awful_ the dragon muttered.

Murtagh laughed and then glanced around the throne room with a meaningful look.

_And what now? You have done the world a great service and now you are free_

_It is true. I have considered your words and my decision has been made_

_And what have you decided noble dragon?_

_I have decided that I do not wish to belong to any man. I do not wish to be tied to a Rider or his fate_

_A wise choice _- Murtagh nodded.

_But…_ - the dragon hesitated – _I… I wish to stay here… with you_

Eyes bulging, the warrior cleared his throat and then pointed a finger towards himself.

_Me?!_

_Of course I want to stay with you, you imbecile!_ – Shruikan muttered, embarrassed – _You are my friend, are you not?!_

_I suppose that I am_ Murtagh replied, stunned.

_Don't look so shocked boy!_ the dragon growled, offended.

_My apologies_ Murtagh grinned.

Facing his partner, the warrior jerked a thumb towards the giant, onyx beast.

"It looks as though we've acquired a family _pet_," he said through a tight grin.

Lia choked a laugh and the dragon growled. The two warriors turned to see the Rider and the young girl staring at them hopelessly and then a creak from behind made them all turn. Erika entered the room, stopped and gaped.

"_You_!" she yelped and her shoulders began to shake.

The five of them stared from one to the other, before Murtagh finally turned to Lia and rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh.

"_Alllright_, _who _needs a damn _hug_?" he offered.

Four bodies slammed into them in the space of a few seconds, pinning them together and choking the life out of them. The muffled sounds of sniffling and sobbing filled the air. The warriors felt their clothes and skin turn slick from the tears of their comrades and awkwardly patted their backs. Lia snorted a laugh.

"Honestly my good sir, you'd think _someone_ had just _died_!"

"My lady?"

"Yes?"

"Why the hell aren't _we_ joining this huddle of weeping women?"

"I _heard_ that!" Eragon's muffled voice cut in with a laugh.

"What on earth is there to be sad about? We're _alive_," Lia stated simply.

"You're right," Murtagh agreed and then groaned. "Although whatever the hell is pressing into my groin really isn't helping my happiness."

"Don't look at me," Lia chuckled. "My hands are tied."

"It's not me," Erika mumbled from his left.

"Or me," Ella mumbled from her right.

"Uh…_oops_," Eragon mumbled.

Murtagh tore himself free from the large embrace and pulled his partner before him.

"_Bad_ Rider!" he scolded. "_Bad_!"

"_Really_ Rider," Lia said in a reprimanding tone. "Is that any way for a _King_ to treat his _subjects_?"

"It was an _accident_!" Eragon spluttered, turning a violent shade of red.

Erika leaned into Ella, both brows raised high. "I think you should take him to the first available chamber and _take_ him before you lose him to the other side."

"_I_?!" – the Rider stuttered, smoke practically streaming from his ears. "I do _not_ prefer _men_ damn it! I like _women_! _Why _do you always _do _this to me?!"

His foot stamped to the ground and they all observed the tantrum with twitching lips.

"You see _that_," Lia muttered loudly to her partner. "_That_ is our new _King_."

Murtagh nodded seriously and then added. "Do you know what I heard?"

"What?" she asked, excitedly.

"I heard…he prefers a nice, thick, long co – "

"_Aggggh_!" Eragon cut in with a furious roar and then swung around to face the girl that he loved. "_You_!"

Ella's eyes widened. "What?"

Storming forward, he grabbed her hand and began to drag her towards the door.

"You and me. We're finding a chamber _right_ now and I am _not _taking no for an answer!" he growled.

Ella's eyes lit up at the tight feel of his hand around her arm and the animal lust in his eyes. "_Alright_."

At her reaction, he stopped short and searched her face. She was serious. Forgetting the others, a lustful look passed between them and then, they were running through the doors, followed by a chorus of wolf whistles and whoops. When the young couple were gone, the three remaining in the room turned to face one another.

"Erika," Lia greeted her with an incline of her head.

"Lia," the strange girl bowed back and then, turned the bow to the son of Morzan. "Murtagh."

When she next looked up, Erika wanted to express something… anything. But it was all too new. She was not ready… not yet. Instead, she took a step back and offered them a mocking smile.

"It's a bloody miracle," she snorted. "But here you are…both alive… and I suggest that you use this night to adjust. Yes, yes I know that The Rider is busy banging on the virgin milkmaid, but I think that the both of you should give it a rest just for _one _night. I hear that death can be _quite _a bitch… Tomorrow is another day and a new beginning for us all. Save your energies until then. And for now… I bid you goodnight…"

As expected, the girl simply vanished, leaving only Murtagh, Lia and the dragon.

"Was it me, or was that bordering on _friendly_?" Murtagh pondered.

"No…I think you are right," Lia agreed.

"_Fascinating_," he chuckled. "Does death make everyone this _boring_?"

"Don't worry yourself," she grinned. "_We're_ still rather interesting."

Stretching his arms over his head, Murtagh yawned and ruffled his hair. Catching his yawn, Lia covered her face and rubbed her eyes.

"She has a point though," he said, suddenly sleepy. "I am feeling somewhat nackered."

"_Hmmmm_," Lia agreed, swaying slightly on the spot.

Bending down, he swept her off her feet and cradled her against his chest. Her head rested against his shoulder and she sighed contentedly.

"Ready for a night in a nice, warm bed?" he asked, pressing his lips to her brow.

"A bed?" she murmured through a smile. "Never heard of one."

"Then let me show you," he grinned.

As he walked toward the door wondering how he could possibly open it without dropping his love, it opened on its own accord. Smiling, he pulsed the one thought.

_Thank you Shruikan_

_Sleep well Murtagh_

_Goodnight_

Walking out into the corridor, Murtagh sensed that Lia was already fast asleep and he smiled. She was alive… He was alive… The Twins were dead… The King was dead...

… For the first time in his life, he knew that everything was going to be fine.

******************************************************

**THE END**


End file.
